To Create is to Destroy
by Zoey Poison
Summary: The Joker has been terrorizing Gotham for as long as Lily Jones can remember, but she never imagined she would meet him in person. Joker/OC.
1. So We Meet, My Sweet

In the city of Gotham, there was a thick fog looming over each and every tall building that protruded from the paved ground. It was just beginning to become night and the skies were darkening. As I sat perched upon my wooden bench, rather jumpy and hoping the bus would arrive shortly, twirling a lock of reddish brown hair between my fingers, I heard a chuckle from behind me. I inched closer to the edge of the seat, ready to run if I needed to. But that would hardly do me any good, I was slow and clumsy. I muttered incoherent curse words under my breath and my eyes darted uneasily from side to side. I knew that laugh. Everyone in Gotham knew that laugh.

The bus pulled up in the next second and I thanked the lord up above. Then again, a bus wouldn't stop the almighty, feared Joker from killing civilians like me. He always found ways to get around miniscule obstacles such as this one. Now, I'd never met the man in person and I didn't want to, but I, like every other person inhabiting Gotham, knew his face well. He was all over the news, striking fear into the very heart and soul of Gotham.

It wasn't long ago that the beautiful Rachel Dawes had been blow to bits and pieces by the man. This meant that Harvey Dent lost his sanity not too long ago as well. Harvey Dent was dead now, wasn't he? I had heard that as a rumor from one of the biggest gossipers in town, my employer. You see, I work at a hospital and my boss is a huge town gossip. Normally hospital employees weren't such loudmouths but this woman was an unbelievable exception.

The time it took for the bus to get to the bus stop near my apartment building wasn't a very huge amount of time, and I was happy when I opened my apartment door to find my dear cat sprawled out on the couch, yawning when he spotted me. I slid my bag off my shoulder onto the floor beside the sofa, and sat next to the small tabby cat and scratched behind his ears. He purred gratefully and I sighed. It had been a long day at the hospital. The Joker kept killing more and more people, some he just left injured which went right to the next best thing to Gotham General (which had been blown up by the Joker, I formerly worked there), a nice little hospital recently built. All it was called was Gotham Hospital. I'll admit; the name wasn't very creative but it gets the point across.

"What should I make for dinner tonight, Henry?" I asked the cat, tapping a pale, slim finger on my lips in thought. I wasn't an extraordinary cook so I usually just cooked up TV Dinners or went out and got a salad from the local store. There were times when I invested my money in a pasta dinner from a nice Italian restaurant. It was my treat to myself for working so hard and gaining the extra money in order to feed myself a nice meal once in awhile. I deserved it anyway. Though I must say, I would probably be five times richer if I didn't spend so much money on mass amounts of coffee.

I stood up, feeling cold at my side from where Henry had been warming me up with his soft fur and tiny, warm body. He was my only company nowadays other than the folks at work. I didn't have many friends and my parents had both acquired cancer and died. My dad died first and then my mum passed away at the end of high school. I was left with my aunt, who had been frightened off by the Joker and went to live in another town, she didn't say where. I didn't mind since I'd been nineteen at the time and allowed to live on my own. It didn't take me long to get through medical school and then get a job at Gotham General. Money was now coming in regular-like, although it could be coming in more abundantly. I can't complain, I have enough to feed myself and my cat and that is all I ask.

As I was searching through the remnants of food in my fridge and freezer, I noticed that my television was on. 'Funny,' I thought to myself. 'I could have sworn that wasn't on when I came in.' I didn't make a notion to turn it off though, because something caught my eye. The news was on, alerting the public that the Joker was at it again. He was wreaking havoc on Gotham and had just kidnapped a young man and wanted Batman to reveal himself or he would kill him. Although I was relatively sure that the man had nothing to do with anything, it was just a random stranger, I sighed. That was when I recognized the face of the man. My heart sunk. He worked at Gotham Hospital with me. The man was around my age, maybe a bit older. He was so nice and his name was Patrick, always insisting I call him Pat though. Seeing him in the Joker's arms made my stomach twirl and I closed the fridge to take my seat next to Henry again.

_"Batsy, you know you don't want more murders on your hands. When you come to rescue this," _The Joker looked down at the frightened boy in his grasp, a knife pressed to his jugular. "_Young man, I just want one thing. Take off your mask for us! C'mon Bats you know you don't want this man to die." _ I heard Pat whimper and the Joker pressed harder on his neck, a small trail of blood seeping into Pat's nice white tee. I watched with my mouth agape and then drunk in the surroundings of where he was. Why, that was the building across the street! No wonder there was the sound of a helicopter for so long. Then again, I was so used to the loud noises that I could hardly notice them anymore.

It took a lot to get me to peek out the window, and when I did I regretted it. The Joker was facing my window and grinning, as if he knew that I would be looking out at him. He waved and tapped Pat's shoulder with his knife, whispering something violently into his ear. A moment later I saw Pat look up with extreme terror etched in his features. His eye held a hidden warning but I didn't understand. Behind me, Henry meowed softly.

"Not now Henry, I'll feed you later." I hissed quietly, and he only rubbed against my leg, his tail wrapping around. The small cat was distracting me and I felt unsafe now that the Joker knew where I lived. My poor cat was home alone for most of the day, what if he didn't like cats and came in to kill the little guy? I moved away from the window and went to the cupboard to get cat food for the darling feline, just so he would be out of danger's way and eating safely in the other room. When I was done with him, I went back to the window and let out a huge scream at what I saw.

There in front of me, stood the Joker, dangling Pat out of my window. He turned to me and I realized how terribly horrifying he looked in person. It was one thing to see him on a television set, but to see him for real was a whole different story. His eyes were two round pools of pitch black. They intimidated me to no end, and his makeup was caked on with white, black around his eyes and red smeared over his mouth and Glasgow smile. He grinned, revealing two rows of perfectly straight, but yellow teeth. I wanted to cry and run but I knew that would be impossible. I couldn't leave little Henry behind. And then there was Pat, who was desperately clinging on to the Joker's arms so he wouldn't fall to the ground below. My apartment was quite a way up and Pat would be dead before he reached the sidewalk.

The Joker giggled childishly and I stared at him in horror. "You look nervous." The psycho said with a sly smirk on that forever-smiling face of his. I cast a glance at Pat and then back at the Joker, and the small look didn't get by him. He noticed it and turned to face Pat all the way, directing his entire attention upon him for a second. "Oh, him? I'm not sure what to do with him. What do you suggest, should I drop him and watch him fall to his death, or should I just shoot him now and leave him here to be cared for by a _great doctor_?"

I was too horrified to reply. The only thing I could do was wonder why or how he knew I was a doctor. Pat must have told him. Why would that slip into the conversation though? Perhaps this was all a dream. I pinched myself discretely and when I felt the pain I hoped the madman wouldn't notice. But it seemed true that nothing got past this guy, and he began laughing uncontrollably. My ears felt like they would start bleeding, mostly out of fear than anything else. He was absolutely _terrifying_.

"Did you think this was all a _dream_, princess? Because I have to assure you, it's definitely not. Maybe this will _wake you up!!_" he seethed for a reason I did not know. In a second, Pat was tossed away, down the building. I screamed and pushed past the wall of a man to get to Pat's hands, which were outstretched and his mouth was wide open, screaming. I, too, was screaming and I felt hot tears slip out of my eyes and fall down my freezing, porcelain cheeks. That was one of my only friends at the hospital. Was this some kind of personal attack?!

"Awake now, doctor? I sure hope so because you won't want to miss the fireworks!" that childish, horrifying voice said from behind me. I had almost forgotten about the madman and I regretted pushing past him. He now had the ability to toss me out of the window as well. I looked up and noticed the helicopter filming my window, trying to catch everything. Looking back down, I saw Pat's body on the ground. There was a red puddle around him from what I could see and there were several men in blue and yellow down there, hoisting him up and putting him in a black bag. Left behind was reddish pink goo. I could only assume that those were his insides, or his brain which had been shaken from the fall.

I didn't see anything too detailed in the gore, since it was so far down. I could only make out colors for right now, and I was fine with that. While I was lost in the tears that blurred my vision, I felt a pair of warm, strong arms slither around my waist and tug me back from the window. I screamed and wailed, then got thrown to the floor by the clown in my apartment. He glared at me as if I were some sort of nuisance and looked around the apartment, taking in everything. It was like there weren't cops and television reporters outside, hoping he'd drop dead any minute now. They all wanted so badly to stop him from ruining Gotham's lives. He just wanted to watch the city burn though, and we may never know how but he was beginning to succeed. I stared up at his black eyes and visibly shivered. This only caused him to smile.

"Why so scared, beautiful? Maybe I just want a friend. Perhaps I'll make sure you don't _die_ like your unfortunate colleague did." The Joker put on a mock face of sorrow. "Such a shame that something so, so _tragic_ happened to someone so _young._"

In a split moment I pushed the Joker down onto the floor and pinned him to the ground. He'd been caught off guard by this, which I assumed wasn't something that happened very often. But his facial feature, which was shocked a minute ago, turned into something livid and he chuckled darkly. It almost seemed like he couldn't get me off, maybe I was stronger than I thought. But that thought turned around when a shiny silver gleam caught my eye, and he pushed me away without a care at all. In less time than it took me to get him to the ground, he had me there, unable to move from his body pressed into mine on the floor. There was a knife in one hand and the other was keeping one of my arms down. The Joker glared at me and I looked at him in anger. Sure, I was still afraid but for now, perhaps courage would make him change his mind of killing me. Pat's fear had only made him plummet to his death a bit ago, and the Joker wasn't fazed at all by having the blood of a very innocent man on his hands.

"Tell me, girlie." The Joker growled, running the knife along my cheek. He rested the silver weapon on my lips and I saw him smirk a little. "Why is it that you think you can just shove me around? Do I look like a plaything to you?!" he found this funny for some reason and he began cackling. I watched him silently, exhausted, scared, and angry.

"Why don't you smile?" he asked out of nowhere. I frowned deeper just to get him angry and a look of irritation flashed across his painted features before I heard a grumble from him. "Smile for me." He said a bit calmly. When I didn't comply, he roared, "Smile for me!!" I instantly forced a smile and he looked satisfied. A smug smile took form on his face and I wanted to wipe it off, but I was afraid that if I stopped smiling, he'd get angry.

"You look better when you smile, you know." He complimented. I was still ticked off at him for killing my friend so I wasn't flattered one bit by what he said. He added on to his statement when he saw my grin fade a bit. "Ah-ah. If that beautiful smile goes away I might just have to give you an _everlasting_ one, like my own." He turned his face so I could see the entire scar under his smeared makeup and I shuddered, but only put that smile right back on as if I was really enjoying this. The Joker seemed to be and I inwardly groaned. When would this end?

As if on cue, a black figure towered over the two of us and I really had a reason to smile then. The Joker noticed and looked up at Batman. "Why hello Bats, how nice of you to join us!" he announced happily and he stood up, bringing me with him by grabbing a handful of my hair. I was now at his mercy, my back against his chest with a knife pressed to my throat, the same position he'd had Pat in before he died. This angered me but I figured I deserved the same fate that dear old Pat did.

"Let the girl go." The gruff voice of Batman said. I opened my mouth to take in a bit of air, and I realized how helpless I was in this situation. I would have to find a way to thank Batman before he left, just because I was so sure I was going to die but now I had that little light of hope shining down on me. Batman was a savior, and I never understood why everyone blamed all those killings on him. He was a hero, hopefully my hero pretty soon. I locked eyes with him and silently pleaded for him to help me. Of course he would, he was Batman for goodness sake.

"I don't think so Bats. Not before you reveal yourself. Take off that nice black mask of yours, will you?" the Joker said, his voice dangerously close to my ear. I hadn't noticed how close he was until he spoke, and now I was becoming overly aware of his hot breath fanning over my exposed neck. When Batman shook his head and came running at the Joker, I felt the blade press into my neck and stain my shirt. I whined like Pat had, and looked up at the Batman who had stopped coming forward when the blade dug into my skin. "Not so fast, Batsy." He said and I could just hear that smile in his voice. He sounded excited and I peeked up at his face to confirm my theory. He was definitely excited, for some reason or another.

It almost looked like Batman was contemplating just taking his mask off to get me out of this madman's clutches, but I shook my head violently, causing the blade to knick me a few times in the process. I ignored the liquid that shot out down my neck. It stung but I didn't care, I didn't want Batman to reveal himself just for me. "No, don't!" I squeaked out. The Joker's grip on me tightened and he began to laugh insanely. "Bahahah! My sides hurt from that!! Such a good laugh! You sure are funny, princess." This confused me. I said a total of two words and they were a warning to Batman. Then again, this guy was absolutely crazy and any sane person would know. Maybe I wasn't sane. Maybe I was just as out of it as this guy. "And you sure are a psychopath." I countered. He glared down at me. "What did you just say?" he grumbled. "Your mind is a mess of insanity." I said, gaining courage with Batman in the room. I'd almost forgotten he was there. The Joker rolled his eyes. "Then why don't you just unscrew my head and rinse it out, _doctor_? Or are you not talented enough to do so yet?!" I glared at him and we seemed to be stuck in a glaring contest for a while. It was then that Batman lunged forward, knocking the Joker and myself to the ground. I was excited at first, until the Batman pulled away and I felt the Joker tighten an arm around my waist.

It was then that I noticed the shining switchblade stuck into my chest and the blood pouring from it at a rapid speed. All I could do was gasp and I looked up at Batman, tapped his shoulder, and then my head fell to the ground and I blacked out, blood pooling around me.


	2. Hi I'm Bruce Wayne

It wasn't until late that night that I woke up, or so I thought. My body felt sore and numb, and I couldn't help but squint my eyes to take in my surroundings. No one was in the room with me and it was then that I realized I didn't know where I was. Lifting my arm to my head, I noticed that there was an IV stuck in my pale skin near my wrist. When I moved a bit, a sharp pain shot through my body from my chest and I winced. I looked down and sure enough, some wound had been dressed there. The bandage looked clean but I felt moisture underneath. Perhaps it was sweat? I sighed and another sharp pain rippled through my being. I hadn't really remembered how I'd gotten the terrible wound on my chest yet. But it all suddenly came, flashing back to me in a big montage of the day.

When it seemed like my flashback was over, I gasped. The Joker had been in my house! Pat was dead, where was Henry, and Batman? I hoped the black spandex-wearing man was all right. Then again, he was a hero and good guys always won right? The Joker couldn't have won. It was nearly impossible. It went against almost everything that the old stories and books told about. But that was purely fiction, and this was real life. I knew I had to take control of the situation and I looked at the IV in my arm and up at what it was attached to. It was a simple little contraption, a bag of water with medicine dripping in and I pulled the IV out of my arm. It wasn't like I didn't know what I was doing. I was a doctor for goodness sake; this was hardly a difficult task for me.

The room around me was pretty empty. The walls were gray and the floor was too, but it looked like it had once been white and just been scuffed up so much that the color had drained from it. There were square shapes on the walls from where pictures must have been hung, and a small throw rug in the corner near a lopsided wooden desk. On the desk sat a pile of papers and a light. I assumed in the drawers were medical supplies and pens. Something else caught my eye though. The telephone, which was formerly shiny and white, was bashed up into bits and pieces and left on a board that stuck out from the desk. To put it bluntly, the room gave me the creeps. I turned to look at my bed and screamed at what, or rather who, I saw there.

Bruce Wayne stood near the bed I was sleeping in just a moment ago. _The _Bruce Wayne, beautiful, rich Bruce Wayne. I squeezed my eyes shut and then opened them again, but his godly self didn't vanish like I thought it would. This, like the incident earlier with the Joker, was realistic. He was really there, but I wasn't quite sure why. When he waved at me, I stood up straighter instead of gawking at him like an average hormone-crazy girl.

"Hello, miss Jones. I didn't mean to scare you. I trust you slept well?" he asked. His voice was attractive, but it sounded too good for me. He seemed to have a hint of regret somewhere in that voice of his. His eyes were dark and liquid. His face, oh, that was a whole different story that I couldn't even get into.

"O-Oh! Yes I think so. Umm, not to be rude or anything, but where am I?" I asked. I mentally slapped myself for sounding so nervous and stupid. It caused the good-looking man to smirk and I heard a low chuckle. That no-good dirty-rotten… gorgeous man… was enjoying every damned minute of this! He must have been used to the way girls looked at him. It wasn't unnatural to think he was attractive. I coughed and looked away, a light pink color flooding my cheeks. I felt the tension in the room grow that much thicker.

"When you had a run with the Joker and Batman, you were stabbed in the chest by the Joker's knife when the Batman collided into you and that madman." He said. Bruce looked really upset over something, I didn't know what. Maybe he was just uneasy about the Joker having been near me. He didn't want anything to do with the Joker, perhaps. But why would I be with Bruce Wayne after all of this? My life was getting more and more crazy each passing minute.

"Well, Batman was being backed up by the police, who ran in through your apartment door and got to the Joker while Batman pinned him to the ground. That Joker put up a pretty good fight, but eventually he was taken to the Arkham Asylum and he will remain there. Batman picked you up and brought you to the hospital himself, and the Commissioner figured that you needed a safe place to stay and my buddy, Alfred, for some reason suggested you stay with me. So, I offered." Bruce continued to explain. He stopped and waited for my reaction. Basically, all I could do was stare, but I quickly spoke up.

"So where am I right now though?" I asked. My question hadn't really been answered. What happened was answered, but my whereabouts were still unknown. That ticked me off just the tiniest bit.

"You're in Gotham Hospital, in the very far end. It appears you work here, the staff knows you so well. You're not familiar with this wing?" he asked politely. I shook my head no and looked around. Usually our hospital rooms were nice and clean, they weren't intimidating like this room. I furrowed my brows in confusion. "What wing is this?" I asked.

"It's in the R wing, which is in the very back of the hospital, where the special patients are kept. If you hadn't been put in here, the windows would have been covered with reporters. You wouldn't have gotten a second of rest, they'd be snapping photographs of your sleeping form and asking questions and making up answers that they wanted to hear." Bruce joked. I laughed lightly and realized how awkwardly I'd been standing. I decided now was a prime time to allow my muscles to relax a bit. I could stand fine, and I didn't really feel lightheaded at all. I would have killed for a shower, my hair was greasy and I just felt disgusting. To be in the presence of a handsome man like Bruce Wayne while I had conducted bad hygiene, as my first impression no less, was utterly humiliating.

"How long have I been asleep?" I asked. Bruce thought for a moment, turning his eyes and head to the ceiling in thought. I bit my lower lip as I waited and his answer came shortly. "Three, almost four days. You lost quite a sum of blood, remember. Then you hit your head pretty harshly on the ground a few times." I narrowed my eyes at him. How did _he_, this _pretty-boy_, know so much about what happened? He wasn't there; he was probably off at an underwear photo shoot or something. His knowledge on the subject was suspicious. I decided to ask him about it.

My azure blue eyes locked with his dark ones for a moment. "And how is it that you know so much about what happened?" I questioned. Because I'd been watching him closely, I noticed his face flicker to a look of nervousness and then quickly back to a regular demeanor. He was good at hiding things, I'd give him that.

"Well, obviously the police filled me in about everything before I took you in. I didn't want any secrets, and you'd need someone to tell you everything as well. You do realize, too, that there were helicopters and news crews outside of your apartment as this was all going on? The whole entire scene had basically been broadcasted to the entire city of Gotham. You're nearly as famous as I am. Everyone in Gotham wants to meet the girl who lived through an _almost_ fatal encounter with the Joker." Bruce raised his eyebrows as if these facts were obvious. The last thing he said made my heart sink. I didn't want to be famous! I liked my life, it was just me and ---

"Oh no! What became of Henry during all of this?!" I asked, my arms flying to my head. I was distressed. Surely that poor little feline would be alive still and in good hands! I couldn't help but think of the worst as images of his mangled body tore through my mind. When Bruce smiled, I felt my imagination wash away in relief. He spoke, "Henry. You mean your cat? Alfred and I have him back at our little abode." I snorted at that. Little? If their house is little, I wonder what their idea of big is?

"We should get you checked out." Bruce spoke up. He gently grabbed my wrist, the one without the IV, and pulled me toward the door. I cringed when his warm, almost hot fingers grabbed my icy cold arm. The temperate change was shocking, but relieving.

A moment later I was fully clothed and in a big stretch limousine with Bruce Wayne. I still couldn't get over that. Pat would have probably come up to me and made fun of me for it, said I had a new crush on this Bruce fellow. For some reason, I didn't. Bruce seemed nice enough but he seemed too good for me. His life intimidated the hell out of me, and for another weird reason, I wasn't really attracted _to _him. He was attractive, but not magnetizing like handsome men usually were. I didn't know why.

It didn't take long to arrive at Wayne Towers. Inside, I was allowed to shower and get cleaned up. Bruce showed me my room, which had its own bathroom and I smiled with glee when I noticed the little tabby on my bed. "Henry!" I squealed as soon as the bedroom door had been opened. The tabby was almost as glad to see me as I was to see him. He stood and stretched, then made his way to the edge of the bed until I jumped on the mattress beside him and pulled his small, furry body into my arms, kissing the top of his head as he purred in my arms. I couldn't hold it back, and I was embarrassed to see Bruce Wayne watching me in quiet surprise. "Sorry." I said sheepishly, my head moving away from Henry. "I'm a little bit of an emotional wreck, and to know that my little fellow is alive is just such a relief, you know?" Bruce only nodded and left the room. He seemed freaked out, but I didn't care. Nothing mattered so long as I had my sweet little Henry with me.

I showered and climbed out, drying my hair and slipping into my undergarments as well as black sweatpants and a tee shirt from a local radio station. Over that I threw on a sweater and stuffed my feet into medium-thick socks. That was usually how I avoided the cold. I examined the comforter that was on my bed with curious eyes. It looked warm and my cat was certainly enjoying it. Glancing at the clock, I licked my lips and climbed in. When I pressed the switch on the lap next to me, the light in the room was completely gone. "Goodnight." I whispered in the darkness to Henry.

"Night!" a giddy, on-the-verge-of-laughing voice replied. My eyes flung open and a feeling of horror swept over my body. The Joker was in the room with me.


	3. A RealLife Haunting

I couldn't believe my ears. Could they be deceiving me? It wouldn't be the first time I'd had some kind of auditory hallucination. Perhaps I was dreaming. I shut my eyes again and snuggled up tighter into the sheets. I was probably just imagining that voice. My mind had a tendency to run wild on its own, so for it to trick me like that would not be such a surprise. With my eyes closed, my point was further proven by his face floating in and out of my dream. I was just about to fall completely asleep when I felt a big warm thing push closer to me. Now I was awake and completely alert. I refused to open my eyes because sometimes the hallucinations became clearer when I did that.

"Oh, _princess! _I know you aren't sleeping." His childish voice was dangerously close to my face, and I could feel his hot breath on my neck, right next to my right ear. The way he dragged out the 's' in princess made me shiver. Hell, his warm breath against my cold skin was giving me the chills and I didn't even know why. I gulped audibly and opened my eyes. It was dark in the room but my eyes were adjusted. I decided to face my fears and turn my head to see if I could make out his shape. I jumped a bit to see just how close he really was to me.

"How did you get in here?" I whispered furiously, slowly inching away from him. He noticed and only inched closer to me until I was up at the edge. A warm arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me even closer. I stifled a gasp when he began to chuckle.

"That's my secret, doll." He said back quietly. It wasn't exactly a whisper but I figured that he knew how big this place was, and Bruce's room was probably quite a long walk down the corridor. Any small sound in this room would definitely not be heard from his bedroom. Thinking about that made me a huge sum less comfortable.

I felt something moving at my feet and my eyes flickered there. Henry was repositioning himself to get comfy and I could only hope that the Joker didn't try to do anything to the feline. Luckily he didn't even really take notice. He seemed more interested in breathing down my neck.

"Why are you here?" I asked weakly. I watched when a smile took place on his mouth, his scars stretching slightly. "Maybe I just couldn't _stand_ to be away from you, _girlie._" He teased. I rolled my eyes at that, realizing that all questions I would ask would not get a serious response. This was the Joker anyway, of course he made jokes.

I was about to ask another question when he interrupted me before I could even utter the first syllable. "Stop asking so many questions. Its night and that means we sleep." He said, a hint of amusement laced with irritation in his voice. I shrunk in my spot and lost all confidence I'd had, deciding it would be best to obey him. Although I didn't get any sleep that night. How could I possibly sleep with a guy like him in the same room, let alone the same bed?

I will admit I got about one hour of sleep that night. For most of the night, I either watched the madman sleep or pretended I was asleep when he stirred. At times I would sit up to give Henry a petting, or look around to take in the beauty of the luxurious bedroom. When morning came and the Joker's eyes opened, I had actually been on the verge of sleep. My eyes were shut and I was just about to doze off for the second time that night when I felt him shaking me. I furrowed my eyebrows and opened my blue eyes to look at him. His makeup was smeared and I looked at him, confused. "What?" I asked, beginning to get over my fear for him. Once you got past the layers of makeup and terrifying cackle, the man wasn't all that bad. Actually that was a lie; I just for some reason wasn't scared anymore.

But despite my one-word question still hanging in the room, the Joker didn't answer. Instead he withdrew his one arm from around my waist and got off the bed, standing. He was certainly tall. His extreme height towered over the bed and I felt intimidated and small. I imagined just standing next to him would make me feel quite the same way. Self consciously, I pulled the covers up closer to my face. He noticed and giggled. "Up and at 'em." The Joker said quickly. "We're going to need to leave before that guy comes gallivanting in here to whisk you off downstairs to munch on some fancy, rich breakfast."

I raised my hands up to stop him from saying anything else. A smirk was on his face from this and I looked at him, annoyed. "What makes you think I'd go anywhere with you?" I spat. This made the Joker angry, it appeared, and he lunged at me and grabbed a fistful of my reddish brown hair, pulling my body towards him in this way. I really wished he would stop doing that. It hurt so horribly, and the way he was making my body twist around like a ragdoll was surely not helping the bandaged wound on my chest and neck.

"If you don't come _willingly,_ which I'm sure you will find is much more preferable than the other option, then you will come by _force._ Don't step out of line too much now, _missy._ You obviously don't realize who you're _really dealing with._" He seethed. It seemed with every word, he grew angrier and angrier. Eventually his grip on my hair loosened and I fought back tears. The fear I'd hidden from him formerly was now bubbling to the surface, but I held it in. I couldn't show my emotions to him, lest I want to be tossed around like that more often, which I did not.

"Okay." I replied, masking my fear and uneasiness like a professional. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at me and then turned around, facing the big balcony that looked down at Gotham City. Since when was that there? I hadn't noticed it last night. Then again, I was half drugged up last night from the IV which had been stuck in my veins just prior to arriving at the Wayne residence. Actually, scratch residence, ridiculously tall building was more like it.

The Joker didn't care that I wasn't in everyday clothes. He really didn't, he just wrapped that same warm arm around my waist and held a death grip on me as he approached the balcony railing. For a moment, I thought he was going to jump off of the balcony and fall to his death with me in tow, but I was relieved when he turned sharply and there was a fire exit spiraling down to balconies below. It also hit the ground at the end. Here I was thinking that I was supposed to be safe with Wayne, and they put me in the easiest place to be kidnapped ever. I would remind myself to lock those doors if I ever stayed here again, which I was reminded probably wouldn't happen again when the Joker's grip on me got tighter as he raced down the fire exit, his brown shoes tap, tap, tapping along

It took quite a long time to get to the bottom, and my room wasn't anywhere near the top floor. There was one thing on my mind right now and that was that I hoped Bruce Wayne would take care of my cat while I couldn't. If I hadn't listened to the Joker, I wouldn't probably be in excruciating pain right now. Well that, or dead.

"Where are we going?" I asked out loud. The Joker didn't stop dragging me along though, I heard a low grumble from his throat and I furrowed my eyebrows. "You'll see, my little hostage." I wasn't sure, but I thought I'd heard him emphasize the word hostage. I decided not to press on further with the matter because in his other hand he held that shining knife. I blinked and wondered if that was the very same knife that had been stuck in my chest just four days ago.

He caught me staring and started laughing his evil, maniacal laugh. I moistened my lips with my tongue, before realizing that it was one of the Joker's habits. I cursed myself for doing so; he may think I was mocking him. But unlike every other time, he didn't catch what I did. I think he was beginning to grow frustrated with me. He was probably too focused on getting both himself and me to our destination, so he didn't say anything for awhile. After about two minutes of silence and being dragged along, he started humming an unrecognizable tune. It almost sounded like a circus ballad.

The madman continued to hum that song until we came to a big truck. He opened up the back doors and tossed me in carelessly, as if I were nothing but unbreakable merchandise. It almost seemed that I _**was**_ some kind of merchandise; one whom would have to comply with any and all of his orders. I had this deep, suffocating feeling that if I didn't go around with him, I may be killed.

I was flat on my face when I heard the engine roar to life and the driver's door close. My pale, scraped up arms pushed me to my knees and I waddled toward the front of the truck. The Joker was obviously driving, and he was driving **damn fast.** I certainly didn't want to die on the road, but it would probably make me less humiliated if I died in a car crash than at the Joker's hand. Maybe it was all part of a plan. I spoke up then, curious. I think the Joker knew I was closely behind him as he wasn't surprised when I talked. "What are you planning on doing?" I inquired with sheer curiosity. His serpent tongue peeked out from his bright red mouth and ran along his mouth and scars before answering with a cackle, "Do I really look like a guy with a plan?" He proceeded to tell me the same thing he told Harvey Dent on that fateful day in Gotham General, the day my former workplace had exploded. I was one of the workers who needed to evacuate the building. If I had any idea he was on that school bus with me, I surely would have screamed. "I'm just a mad dog chasing cars. I wouldn't know what to do with it if I caught one."

I nodded but he didn't seem to be finished. "I have no _plan_, I just _do_." I waited for him to say more but that was his final statement so I stayed silent, thinking. The truck was speeding (and that was an understatement) down the road and I momentarily found myself feeling queasy. I always had carsickness before and driving with the Joker made it that much worse.

The Joker and I didn't talk for most of the ride. I spent the entire time examining him discreetly. Although I wasn't sure if he was aware or not (he most likely was), he didn't say anything even when he eyed me peculiarly. It was as if he was suspecting me of something mutinous. I won't lie, I'd been also thinking of possible ways to escape and rid myself of him, but I knew it wouldn't end well. He would end up finding me, killing me himself possibly. The Joker was a ruthless killer and would not let anything get in the way of him and his desire to watch the city burn.

I decided to speak up once more before we arrived wherever we were going. "How did you escape Arkham?" He cackled at my question, as if it were obvious. It wasn't obvious to me though, that place had pretty tight security. It was as if the Joker could walk through walls or something. Surely they had most eyes on that man? How could he have escaped?!

"A few threats go a long way, my dear." He answered simply and didn't say anything more. Inside, I was furious. How could the asylum just let him escape like that?! He was a madman and I was his victim, I was in his clutches! Did that nuthouse not realize the danger they've thrust onto Gotham by letting him escape?! Let's just say my mind was absolutely horrified with the decision that Arkham's doctors made. On the outside, I would have seemed calm and collected, as if there was no internal conflict. It seemed to bother the crazy clown though and he, himself, starting up a conversation.

"Aren't you afraid of me?" he asked nonchalantly, as if it were an everyday conversation like the regular greeting. I looked up at him and noticed we weren't driving anymore; the van was parked behind some rundown building. My eyes met his black ones and I shook my head no. "Nope," I said simply. "I'm not afraid of you." He narrowed his eyes and in a split second he was out of the driver door. Quickly the back door opened and he pulled me out by the hair again. I winced and cursed him in my thoughts. Why oh why did he have to torture my hair? It was just so painful, but I suppose it would have to do so long as there wasn't any actual bloodshed. He dragged me into the building, kicking down a brown door that was hanging off of its hinges. We climbed a few staircases along the way until he opened a door to a horrible bedroom. There was moth-eaten furniture in the room and it was so rundown. "Welcome to my house." He said with a sly grin. "This will be your room." My eyes grew wide at that and I nearly choked on my own spit.


	4. Doctor Clean

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**I just want you all to know how happy I am that you like the stories. I have been reading your reviews and I really, really appreciate them. This story is actually making me feel more and more normal every time I write a chapter, so expect frequent updates! I'm also sorry if it seems like things are happening either too fast or too slow. It will get more exciting in a bit! If there are any questions, suggestions, or you just want to talk, feel free to email me. **

_**My email is:**_

**-**

**Disclaimer – I do not own the Joker, Batman, Bruce Wayne, etc.**

**The only person I own is Lily Jones and any other weird **_**unrecognizable**_** names you may hear throughout the story. **

**PS: I do not wish to give out my real name, so you may refer to me as Zoey Poison.**

**Thank you!!**

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Before I could say anything, the Joker turned around and left the room, closing the door behind him. I was now stuck in this ugly room. There was a slight smell of mold and I eyed the cot in disgust. There was a copper stain on the end of the cot where it looked like someone must have been bleeding. I shuddered and moved my attention to the chair in the corner. For a moment, I thought maybe I could sleep on that but I changed my mind when I saw a cockroach climb out from one of the cushions.

There was a clean white blanket pushed against one of the walls in the room. It seemed out of place in here since it was so clean, and I quickly scooped it up and examined it. After looking at it completely, I decided I could substitute it for a bed sheet. I unfolded the blanket and spread it out over the cot, suddenly feeling a little better about sleeping in this room. There were little newspapers and random soiled cloths all over the floor. The window was open but there were bars over it, probably so people like me couldn't escape. It was then that I realized I was being held hostage against my will. Then again, I hadn't fought very much with the Joker, so was it really against my will? My better judgment said yes but I secretly wanted to say that I was fine with my predicament. I pushed those evil thoughts to the back of my mind and started to pick the room up a bit to make myself feel cleaner, or at least a little more comfortable.

I hadn't seen the other door in the room until I grabbed the bag that was in front of it. I opened the door and looked inside. It appeared to be a closet or something; there were several leather jackets and boots. I rummaged through all of the pockets and found a few things that could be of use to me. In the pocket of a brown suede jacket, I found a wallet. It belonged to a man named Jason Michael Blackwork. I doubted he would be coming back for his belongings anytime soon, so I pocketed his wallet and moved on to the next jacket. In there was a pocketknife. That could prove to be useful. The other jackets had a few cough drops in the pockets, which I took just because. It was what was in the last pocket that caught my eye. It was another wallet, but it belonged to an older man named Harold Yeager. As soon as I opened the wallet, a little photo album unrolled and pictures of little children were there. I sniffled and assumed that those were his children and grandchildren. Unfortunately, his coat being in this closet probably meant that he was dead. My heart felt heavy and I stuffed his wallet into my other pocket, glad to be wearing baggy clothes (including a sweater with big pockets).

Before I closed the closet door, I noticed a pile of more cloths, but they were cleaner. Next to it was a small bottle of cleaning solution. An idea dinged in my head and I grabbed the cleaning materials and then shut the door. I tackled the entire room with the bottle and cloths, putting elbow grease into rough stains. When I was finished, the room looked almost normal and it smelled strongly of bleach. I started to get lightheaded, but I stuffed the cleaning solution and cloths back into the closet and moving to the window for some fresh air. There was a spider web there and I took a nearby newspaper and knocked it down, throwing the newspaper out the window and watching it fall to the pavement. There had been a guy in a clown mask down there, guarding the area no doubt, and he jumped when he saw the newspaper. I chuckled and walked backwards from the window so he wouldn't see me.

I wasn't really tired but I felt as though I should be. It had been a tiring day and I had no one to talk to, not the patients from the hospital, or Henry or Pat. I was beginning to get pretty lonely, though I figured that having no company at all was better than having the Joker for company. He was sick and twisted and I kept reminding myself that he killed Pat and I should hate him forever for that. For some reason, I couldn't hate him and I didn't know why. I sighed and moved to the cot, the smell of bleach strong in my nose. I figured that maybe if I slept, I'd wake up and this would all be a horrible dream. Pat would be safe and Henry would be nudging me to feed him in my apartment.

But just as I was about to lay down and shut my eyes, the door opened and I saw the Joker standing there. He had an expression of small shock on his face as his nostrils flared and then a look of disgust took over. "What is that _smell?_" he questioned dramatically, throwing his gloved hands over his face. I rolled my eyes and sat up to face him. "Its cleaning solution, the room was really dirty." I said. The Joker grumbled and grabbed my arm. I yelped in surprise and he dragged me out of the room, down the hallway and stopped in front of a metal door. His grip on my arm was bruising and I wanted so badly to yank it free, but I knew he'd be angry.

"You want to see _dirty?_" he spat in my face, just before licking his red lips and turned back to the door. His free hand reached for the knob and he pushed it open. Immediately a horrible, rotting smell hit my nostrils and I began to gag. When we actually entered the room, I held in a scream. The walls were soaked in blood; it seemed that there was a fresh coat too. There were mutilated bodies on the floor, bleeding profusely. They had several stab wounds and a mouth scar similar to the Joker's. Apparently they had done something he didn't like. I gulped and felt tears slip down my cheeks. One of the men I recognized from his ID card. The jackets in my room had once belonged to the corpses in front of me. I suddenly felt guilty.

"Would you like to clean this room as well, doctor clean?!" he mocked before laughing right in my face. His grip on my arm was still in that death grip, and I felt as though my limb was about to fall right off, like the arm I spotted in the far corner over yonder. But quickly I shook my head no. I hadn't realized how upset the Joker would be about me cleaning up the room. He looked like he was deciding what to do as he analyzed my face. "Maybe you should, I mean it is _really dirty_. Dirtier than your room that I so generously _provided_." The Joker growled. I felt small compared to him; he really did tower over me. Though compared to the Batman, the Joker was pretty short. I wondered how tiny I'd feel when the Batman would show up near me. **If** he showed up near me, that is.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you mad." I said, letting my emotions show for a second. Personally, I thought it was a stupid move but his face relaxed and he let me out of the room. It was then that I realized I'd been holding my breath. I exhaled and was happy to find that the air didn't smell like salt and copper. He scoffed at me. "That room smells refreshing compared to your bleached up bedroom." My cheeks felt hot in embarrassment and I wondered why he stormed in so randomly earlier in the first place. As if he read my mind, he began towing me to another door. It wasn't my room or that bloody room. I could only pray it wasn't dotted with corpses. He muttered a, "C'mon now.", when my feet started to drag.

The door in front of us opened and I blinked. Now, this room wasn't half bad. There was a nice bed in the middle of the large room with a big purple quilt. The bedposts were painted green and I spotted a table to the far right of the room with medium-sized tubs of face paint sitting on it. I smiled to myself and walked after he did. The Joker stopped in front of the small TV that I hadn't noticed. He flicked it on (after beating it up to catch a signal) and grinned when a picture of him was on with the news. I watched curiously.

_**"The Joker strikes again. Lily Jones, an employee at Gotham Hospital, formerly Gotham General, was terrorized in her home four days ago when she watched her co-worker, Patrick O'Hara, fall to his death by the Joker's hand. She was taken into the care of her workplace and then brought to a much safer building, the Wayne Towers. On the first night of staying there, she was kidnapped. We have reason to believe it is the Joker's doing. Bruce Wayne, who had been asleep at the time and unsuspecting of what was going on in the other room, walked into her bedroom at about eight in the morning and found the room empty except for her cat, Henry, whom she cared for deeply. If you see this girl, please contact Gotham police immediately." **_

A picture of a pale-skinned, reddish brown haired girl with azure blue eyes was shown on the television after that with my name underneath it. I gasped at the sight of myself and then I looked over to the Joker, who had a huge grin on his face. He certainly looked pleased with himself. The news continued on, forgetting about the little announcement about me being missing. My nose started to sting, a familiar feeling that happened every time I was about to cry. I held in the tears and my knees started to buckle, the full, absolute realization hitting me like a ton of bricks.

Before I could fall backwards, the Joker grabbed me. He laughed out loud and pushed me toward his comfortable-looking bed. When my face hit the mattress and he picked my legs up and placed them on the bed as well, I saw a hint of irritation in his features. "You did kidnap me." I whispered, loud enough for him to hear. The Joker looked a little confused and he replied, "Well duh. What did you think I was doing this whole time?" At this he laughed again, his loud, obnoxious chuckle. I tuned it out and stared at the ceiling without blinking. A black circle formed where I'd been staring and I blinked it away, feeling the madman's eyes on me.

"What do you want with me?" I demanded. He looked taken aback and he replied truthfully, "Well you see. I need more bait in order to get the Batman. Since I killed off my last bait, you're the next target." My breath caught in my throat and I felt like I was suffocating. If he could just drop Pat to his death like that, surely he wouldn't have a problem doing the same thing to me as soon as he saw someone else to take hostage! I let out a small whimper by accident and he just gave me a weird look and turned to leave the room.

"Get more sleep. You wasted the entire day _cleaning_ and the drive was long too. You're gonna need to get your sleep for the big day tomorrow!" he said darkly, obviously plotting something in his mind. The gears were definitely turning there. I blinked in bewilderment and opened my mouth to ask what was going on tomorrow, but the door closed, signaling that he left. I closed my mouth and decided that now would be a fine time to sleep, since I hadn't gotten much shuteye last night thanks to the Joker. I believed that I deserved the sleep. A few minutes passed and I drifted off into many dreams about my captor, the Joker.


	5. As if I Was the Crazy One

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**In the last chapter it would have given off my email address but it showed up blank. Sorry about that. If you want to talk to me just send me a message, hah. I didn't realize that function was there until only recently.**

**(Actually my email address should be in my profile.)**

**I wasn't joking when I said I would update frequently.**

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Surprisingly enough, I got much more sleep last night than I did ever before I think. The bed was far too comfortable, which was just downright suspicious. This guy had no desire, it seemed, for anything enjoyable. For the man to have a comfortable bed was just too strange to not think twice about. The thought quickly escaped my mind when I woke up in the morning and I heard the doorknob being fiddled with. My blood ran cold and I shut my eyes quickly. I didn't want him to think I was awake.

Despite my attempts, he saw right through the act when he marched up to my bed and yanked me up forcefully by my arm. "Stop that," he snapped irritably. "I know you're not asleep, there's no reason for that." My eyes opened automatically and I studied his face for a second. He looked tired and upset about something, I wasn't exactly sure what. I figured that it was best I not know. In fact, I probably wouldn't **want **to know.

"Sorry," I mumbled lowly. He ignored me and just watched me flop off the bed to my feet, smirking when he realized just how much taller he was than me. I watched in silent amusement as his face went from dark and serious to a copy of what a child would look like on Christmas morning. His dark eyes watched me and I pursed my lips, waiting for him to say something. Even after a minute passed, neither of us said one word. He looked like he was about to burst out laughing and I probably looked confused.

After what seemed like ages, he started laughing hysterically, his arms enveloping himself and clutching his sides. He inhaled sharply for air and then slowly went back into normal mode as I watched in surprise. By the time he was done giggling, I found myself backed all the way into the bed, shocked and confused. My eyes were wide.

"You know, _missy, _you're pretty funny. Hah!" he said in between little fits of chuckles. I furrowed my brows and waited for him to say more. Perhaps he could further explain his thoughts. His chortles were somewhat unnerving, to put it bluntly. But being the Joker, he left it at that. His smile grew though and I saw him shake in laughter one more time. I stayed silent, no longer wondering whether he was sane or insane. Insanity overpowered any small amount of sagacity he had left in his twisted mind.

"You should get dressed now." The madman said soundly. I didn't say anything, just stared. But he didn't expand on the subject anymore than that and I let out a sigh. I really had to get used to talking to this guy, he was just like a little kid. A schizophrenic little kid, that is.

"I don't have any other clothes." I said meekly. His smile returned to his face and I was preparing myself for another laugh attack, but he didn't even giggle. This crazy clown confused me to no end, and I doubted I would ever be able to predict what he would do next. As he said before, he just does things as they come. He had no plan. I frowned. "Girlie, you're so caught up _staring_ at me and trying to _understand_ me that you didn't even notice the closet over there!" he exclaimed in amusement. He collapsed into another fit of laughter and I raised my eyebrows and looked around the room. It was as if I doubted there was a closet, but there it was, right next to the dusty old television. How could I have missed it? I mentally slapped myself.

I wasn't sure whether I should walk over to the closet or not. If I did, there was a chance he would get angry and protective. But if I didn't, there was that same chance of him being angry, but impatient. I bit my bottom lip and took one step toward the closet door. He immediately ceased all laughter and watched me curiously with those black, mesmerizing eyes. I took another step toward the closet and he did nothing, just watched me. My small frame shook as I took another step and almost fell, but even when I looked up to catch him looking at me, his smile was gone. There was that red paint, smeared messily across his lips and scars on his cheeks. That smile was obviously still in place, but the one he usually wore whenever he was around had disappeared, and there were no signs of it ever being there except for the small cracks in his makeup, no doubt from smiling while applying the fresh coat of cream.

I continued to walk to the closet and he didn't make any notion to stop me. I started to hope that the door was something as innocent as a closet because of the way he watched me. It was like he was waiting for something extraordinarily humorous to happen, and with me I doubted it would. But he, being the Joker, laughed at almost everything whether it was truly funny or not.

Casting one last nervous glance at the Joker, who was still watching me as if _**I**_ was the crazy one; I reached my hand out for the silver sheen that was the closet's doorknob. When my pale hand was on the knob, the metal actually felt warm against my cold skin. I turned the doorknob and pulled it open. It groaned and I looked into the dark closet, gulping. "Is there a light that goes on in there?" I asked, turning to face the Joker. He nodded mechanically and took a few steps toward me, reaching over my small body to pull on a string in the darkness. A light filtered throughout the closet and I shrieked at what was in there.

In front of my face there was a clown mask hanging, a suit right next to it. There were plenty of purple clothes in there as well. I furrowed my eyebrows and looked up at the Joker. Did he really expect me to wear such a suit? They all looked far too big for me to even get into. They'd be damn baggy even if I tried. My small frame was far tinier than these clothes. "I, uhmm, don't think I will fit into these." I said, pointing a finger at the suits that hung there. The Joker met my gaze with an amused expression and he rolled his eyes swiftly before reaching into the closet and pulling out a purple dress on a white hanger there.

The dress was actually quite beautiful. It was elegant, mostly purple with a touch of black. The dress itself was completely purple material, but there was a black waist tie that added a dramatic appeal. It had thick one to two inch purple straps. I smiled to notice that the purple was the exact shade of purple on his coat. Looking back at the dress, it had an a-line shape which would make it a flattering fit on anyone. I only knew this because my mother had been a tailor before she passed away. She taught me just about everything about dresses and suits. The Joker snapped his fingers and brought me back to reality. "Hello? Are you in there?!" he called out, knocking on my head and then cackling. "Hum, it's hollow!" The Joker doubled over laughing and I snatched the dress from his grip before he wrinkled it. He watched me as he laughed and then he straightened himself up to his full height. His full, enormous height. My shoulders and face fell. I was getting frustrated at being so small compared to everyone around me. One of my coworkers was about 4 feet ten in stature and she made my normally small five feet two inches seem tall.

"Go on. Change into the dress." He said, pushing my meager body forward toward the bed which I had laid the dress on to examine it more carefully. I ran my fingers along the soft material gently and then turned back to face the Joker. "You want me to change while you're still in the room?" I asked incredulously, eyebrows raised. He gave one curt nod with his dark eyes lingering on the dress for a moment before coming up to meet mine. "I don't want to take any chances. You might try to escape again." he said. I figured it was just an excuse but I walked to the other side of the bed and kneeled on the ground. His face contorted into pure confusion and I smiled, bringing the dress closer to me. "_What_ are you doing?" he demanded, that same look of puzzlement on his features. I snickered softly and looked up into his gaze of chagrin. It only made the situation seem funnier. "Well if you want to be in the same room, surely you wouldn't mind if I covered up my body by hiding on this side of the bed?"

The Joker let out a laugh and he shook his head, fighting some kind of emotion inside of him that made him just want to start cackling like usual, or maybe bash my head in. I wasn't entirely sure.

"Why don't I just _turn around_?!" he suggested behind gritted teeth. I pretended to think for a moment and then nodded eagerly. He snorted and turned to face the wall, sighing, which made his shoulders go up and then fall down. I stood up and slid off my pajama bottoms and pulled the sweatshirt over my head, careful to make sure the wallets didn't fall out in the process. The switchblade was in my sweatpants pockets, and I took it out and placed it on the bed with a small smirk. I looked up at the Joker, who began to hum another circus tune as he rocked on his heels, facing the wall. His green hair moved slightly as he rocked and I heard him smack his lips together.

When I was only in my undergarments, I unzipped the back of the dress and slipped both of my ghostly white legs in. I pulled the pretty clothing up and zipped it as much as I could. I had to stop because I couldn't zip it all the way up. The realization dawned on me that I would have to get the Joker to help me zip it. I stared in horror at the man, who seemed to just be innocently humming his little circus melody and rocking. I pursed my lips and picked up the switchblade from the bed, tucking it safely into my bra, as it was the only "pocket" I could really keep it in. Perhaps the switchblade would be useful to me somehow.

I walked slowly to the Joker, feeling graceful because of the dress whirling around me in its beauty. As I inched closer to him, I timidly reached out my arm and tapped him on his right shoulder. He flung around with a big grin on his face and raised his eyebrows at my shivering frame. It was cold in the room and the sleeveless dress was not helping. I felt a blush grow in my cheeks and I cursed myself. "Can you zip it?" I asked shyly. The Joker _hehe'd_ and made a small circle with his pointer finger, a sign for me to turn around. I did so and held up my wavy auburn locks with my hands so he could see what he was doing and not get my hair caught in the process. When I felt his warm hands touch my back, I shivered and squeezed my eyes shut, hoping he didn't do anything insane.

The next thing I knew, my dress was zipped and the Joker was all the way across the room, at the door. I let my hair fall to my back and noticed that there wasn't a mirror in the room. It would have been nice if I could see how I looked. I opened my mouth to ask the Joker if there was a mirror but he was gone. I furrowed my eyebrows. "So much for thinking I was going to escape," I mumbled darkly to myself, sitting back on the bed and rubbing my arms up and down to create friction. It was so chilly, and I was clad in this dress that was meant for warmer evenings. A frown was clear on my face when the Joker showed up, holding a small black bag.

"Makeup," he said simply. I nodded, hoping there was a mirror in there because I could not do my makeup blindly. He tossed the bag to me and went over to the wall, sliding down it until his bottom hit the floor. I watched as he took out his favorite blade and began tossing it around as if he were bored. A creepy feeling went down my spine as I started to imagine the normal things he did when he was bored. My mind flashed back to the scene of those mutilated bodies and I gasped in horror. For a moment, the Joker's eyes flickered to me and then back to the knife. I blushed and unzipped the bag. The first thing I saw was a nice mirror, and I began to wonder where he got this from. No doubt he must have mugged a woman.

I placed the mirror down on the bed and pulled out all of the other contents. Firstly, I propped the mirror up on one of the bedposts and then took out a cotton ball and a liquid face cleanser. When my face felt fresh, I applied the tiniest bit of foundation and then found out, to my great dismay, that whoever's bag this was had been far darker skinned than me. I took the cotton ball with face cleanser and wiped the foundation off, moving on to eye makeup instead. I lined my eyes with a little bit of black eyeliner and then the smallest amount of purple and black eye shadow. My eyelashes were then coated with black mascara and I filled the bag back up with its former contents, including the mirror. When the Joker heard the zip, he stood quickly and snatched the bag from me, then tossed it back onto the bed. He stared at me.

"You barely have any makeup on at all." He said matter-of-factly. I nodded, blushing. Was it that obvious? "And yet you still look _beautiful_." He added, his face only inches from mine. I gulped and my throat felt dry. It almost seemed like those red lips would have come clashing down on my pale, naturally light pink mouth. But he backed away, grabbing my arm roughly in a death vice. I winced for what seemed like the hundredth time since I was with the Joker. He certainly was not a gentle man.

"Where are we going?" I asked just to make the mood less awkward as he led me through the dark, spooky corridors. We trailed down the same staircases as yesterday and passed by the door that had been kicked down. The chilling wind stung my arms and face and it was then that I realized I had no shoes on. My feet were freezing! The Joker didn't answer my question and he threw me into the back of that van again and climbed into the driver's seat. I smiled when I saw a pair of black dress shoes in size 6, just my size. I pulled them on and felt a little less vulnerable.

As I sat in the back of the van, being flung violently from side to side each and every time the big truck hit a little bump in the road (he was going so fast that they all seemed like missiles had collided with the side of the vehicle), I kept on shivering from the cold. He seemed fine in the front seat though, and he had this weird expression on his face that I couldn't decipher. Minutes later, I felt something soft hit me in the head and I picked the purple thing up, staring right at his very own purple jacket, which was customary for him. I blinked at it and stole a quick glance at the Joker, who was up there in just a purple pinstriped dress shirt now, without his purple coat. I pulled my arms through the sleeves and immediately felt warm. He'd heated it up by wearing it and I was very grateful for that, though it was probably not crossing his mind when he was donning the purple attire.

The truck soon screeched to a halt very abruptly and I fell backwards onto the ground. The Joker laughed and licked his lips quickly before getting out of the driver's seat and coming around the truck to the back. I groaned and pushed myself up, feeling ridiculous. The back doors opened and I stared as the Joker held out his hand, probably for me to take it. I reached my hand out and grabbed his, expecting to be helped out. Instead, he forcefully yanked forward and I collapsed on top of him. He carried me over his shoulder, arms flailing in his too-big coat. Yes, the sleeves were far too big for my arms and the coat hung lowly on my body, but at least I was warm. I managed to look around me and I inhaled sharply, recognizing it as the same place he just kidnapped me from – Wayne Towers.


	6. A Sudden Change of Heart

**MEMO:**

**Before I begin I just want to give out a big thank you to everyone who reads this story. Sooo, thank you! And also, I'm sorry I haven't updated for this story in like a day, I meant to but never got around to it since I've been so busy preparing for the holidays. :o Sorry bout that. I'll make this chapter a little longer than usual to make up for missing yesterday!**

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When I looked up at the big towers with 'Wayne' printed on the side, I blinked and ceased kicking and screaming for a moment. The Joker was still moving forward though and I inhaled in confusion. "What are we doing here?" I asked, obviously bewildered. But the clown said nothing, he just kept on walking to the place he kidnapped me from a few days ago. Was he planning on handing me right back to them? For some reason, although it was against all of my better judgment, I didn't want him to give me away to Bruce Wayne. There was a bit of me, and I didn't know how potent that part of me may be, that wanted to stay with the Joker no matter how terrifying he was. I wracked my brain for reasons but decided it was probably just because I was finally losing that fear for him that I formerly held. I no longer had to hide the fear because, well, I didn't have any!

We got closer to the tall building and I noticed there were bright lights on at the top floor, which was made of glass. There were several men and women in dresses and suits, mingling and a few drinking from a buffet table. Was there a party going on in there? I sighed, still unsure of the Joker's plan. He hadn't filled me in at all. His plan was to probably leave me here and just forget about me. It seemed logical, at least. If he cared one bit about me staying with him, he would have told me what his plans were. What did he want with Bruce Wayne? Thinking of that name brought back memories and my heart jolted in my chest. Henry! Oh my dear, dear Henry! He would be there! Thank goodness the Joker was coming back to these towers; perhaps he was going to fetch the sweet little feline? I almost doubted it but I needed to stay hopeful if I wanted to ever see him again. He spent the last years keeping me company when I had no one else, I couldn't just abandon him the first chance I got.

I hadn't realized we were at the door of the building until the Joker set me down and ordered me to straighten up my dress. When I stared at him, dumbfounded, he did it for me, smoothing the wrinkles and grinning when he was finished. Underneath the dress, my skin was blazing from his touch. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks and I turned away, snuggling more into his purple coat when a chilly breeze blew by. The Joker reached his arms for my shoulders and I was afraid he was going to take the jacket away, but he only fixed it as it had been falling off my shoulders a tad. I smiled gratefully at him and he just smirked then turned to face the door. "Now," he began, making little hand gestures. "There is a party upstairs and we are going to crash it." I stared at him in disbelief. So _that_ was why he wanted me to dress up! Pursing my lips, I only nodded but then curiosity got the better of me. I had to ask, "Why?" The Joker furrowed his eyebrows and looked at me. "Why what?" he asked in that childish voice of his. I smiled at his expression, it was so cute. And then, I realized what I was thinking and the smile faded. _'What are you thinking?!'_ I snapped in my thoughts. _'He's a maniac!'_

When my internal argument was over, he was still staring at me only now he looked more impatient. "Uhh, why does this party matter? Why do you want to crash it?" I expanded on to my first question. His black eyes flickered to something I didn't recognize and then he looked excited. There was a fire in his mood now, as if I triggered some kind of emotion inside of him that was setting up explosions in his mind. "You're not very _smart_, are you?" he teased. "It's okay, you've got the beauty. There's no _need_ for brains!" he started to laugh as if what he said was very funny, but I stood there with my purple-coated arms crossed in front of my chest. When the laughter stopped, he looked up at me with a glint in his eyes. "Well since I don't have brains," I said between gritted teeth, which only made him laugh even more. "Why don't you explain your little scheme to me?" The Joker nodded and I felt my mood lighten up.

"You were on the _boob tube_ recently, remember?" he asked. I nodded, picturing my face and the little report that the anchorman told. Shuddering at the memory because I'd always hated public exposure, I waited for him to further expand on the subject. It still made absolutely no sense to me. Maybe I was dense. I never had been the brightest bulb in the tree. "This Wayne fellow thinks he's going to send out search parties to get you back." He added on. I still didn't see the big picture. The Joker was patient though and not a hint of irritation flashed through his face. "_We,_ are going to get rid, of _him_." He said finally. My eyes bulged out of my head. Apparently we weren't here to rescue my kitty. I couldn't help but mention that though.

"What about Henry?" I inquired and Joker looked at me like I had ten heads. I sighed, mentally slapping myself. Duh, he wouldn't know my cat's name! "My cat, I mean. Can we get him too? He's probably in the room you snatched me from." The Joker's face didn't change though but I saw his shoulders move upwards in a shrug. He left it at that and my heart sunk, but he reached his hand out to grab mine. "C'mon girly, we have parties to crash and people to kill!" The Joker's voice was excited. I imagined mine would be hardly there if I were to say anything.

The clown dragged me through the first floor. We made a bit of a commotion, I must admit. But it seemed anyone who got in our way was immediately killed. I hadn't even noticed the mass amount of masked clowns who were following us until we reached the second floor and had to squish everyone in a few elevator rides. The Joker and I stayed together. I was too afraid to be split away from him. Killing Bruce Wayne was not something I wanted to do, but when the time actually came for the Joker to do the dirty deed, I figured I could somehow convince him to spare his life. Maybe I could tell Bruce Wayne that I was fine being with the Joker; that it was what I wanted and I wasn't being held against my will. Then he'd stop with the search parties and there would be no need for him to die! Maybe he'd even willingly hand over my kitten to me. I smiled at the thought.

But I didn't say anything, even when we reached the glass party room and the elevator doors slid open, revealing the entire party to the clowns inside. No one really saw us until the Joker fired a shot into the air and I stepped inside shyly, his jacket still draped around my shoulders. Even in here, I was cold. You'd think a millionaire would be able to afford heating, but no. I grumbled but let it slide for now because, glancing around the room, I noticed the women were adorned in wool and silk shawls or long sleeved floor-length dresses that kept them nice and toasty. They were dancing, mingling and being surrounded by a crowd full of people, so they couldn't possibly be cold. The men were obviously wearing suits. From helping my mom with tailoring all those times, I knew very well that suits could get mighty hot. Bruce Wayne was smart to leave the heat off. I couldn't complain about it anyway, I wasn't really invited. Plus, I had this lovely purple coat on my shoulders. From it, I could smell the Joker. To be honest, it actually smelled kind of nice.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen." He announced. "The last time I came here, I wanted Harvey Dent. Now I have a new question. Where is Bruce Wayne?" I gulped and looked around. Everyone in the room looked absolutely terrified. There were a few brave souls who were watching, their faces showed small signs of fear but mostly courage. I would have been one of the people with fear clear as day on my face. He probably would have shot me first. I smiled, realizing I was on his side. He wouldn't turn on me. My eyes scanned the room again, looking for a way I could find my old room and get my cat before we got kicked out. Finally, my gaze landed on the Joker. He was making his rounds and looked relatively busy. Surely, he wouldn't even notice if I slipped away for a minute to get my kitty? I smiled and disappeared in the crowd of people, keeping his coat tightly around me. I got many fearful stares and wondered why. I was dressed just like them. Looking down, I remembered I was wearing purple. That color had been shunned in today's society and only someone on his side would wear it. That and I had his jacket. I grumbled, realizing the Joker did that on purpose. I supposed I would have to be extra sneaky so I didn't alert too many people.

It didn't take long to slither by all of the partiers. They seemed to clear a path for me as I made my way through; obviously fearing I was going to hurt them. Most of the people towered over me in height; did they honestly think someone like me could inflict even the tiniest amount of pain on them? I sighed and opened a white door before disappearing from their sights.

In this new room, it was a long white hallway with many doors on each side. I didn't recognize it very well but I jogged my memory and remembered coming through the corridor while on the way to my room. I looked down the huge spiral stairs at the floors below, suddenly feeling a little acrophobic (afraid of heights). I'd always been afraid of being high up, but seeing the long drop in front of me made me gasp in shock and back away. As I backed up, I bumped into something, or rather, someone. I spun around, ready to run, but it turned out to just be a little Greek statue. Relief washed over me as I observed my surroundings. I didn't want something like that to happen again and actually have a person be behind me. With my luck, it would be Bruce Wayne himself.

My heels clicked against the pearl white floors as I rushed to find Henry. As I walked, I listened for a possible purr or meow. There wasn't any and I kept moving to where I believed my old room was. Hopefully the Joker was still busy in the other room. About two minutes had passed by now, surely he was still terrorizing the people in the other room. He never liked to get things done fast, that was something I learned in the past few days of being with him.

Pretty soon, a familiar door met my eyes and my heartbeat accelerated. Henry was just on the other side of the door, I could feel it! We would finally be reunited! I grinned and sped up to get there quicker. If the Joker was done, I didn't want to be left behind while he is halfway down the highway with Bruce Wayne's blood on his hands. I still hadn't gotten the chance to make peace between them either. I needed to snatch Henry up fast. My quivering hand reached for the doorknob and I pushed it open. Nothing had changed since I left. I saw a few footprints near the door, probably the Joker's. The doors were now closed and locked as well. But what really caught my eye was the big puff ball of a cat laying in that same bed, looking at the door with his big green eyes. I squealed, running into the room, arms outstretched toward the little feline. But just as I was about to scoop him into my arms, I was pushed roughly to the ground by a big black thing.

I grunted with my face buried in the rug. Whoever was on top of me was pretty damn heavy and I sure didn't appreciate them being there. The person wouldn't even move an inch, and they didn't say anything either. I was then yanked up forcefully by my hair and I yelled out in pain. "Where is he?!" a gruff voice demanded. Tears sprang to my eyes and I cast a glance at my cat, wishing that I hadn't been stopped in getting to him. My attacker banged my head into the floor roughly and then pulled my face back up by my hair again. The tears fell out of my eyes forcefully. "Who?!" I shrieked between small sobs of pain. "P-Please stop!!"

The man on top of me crawled off but kept one strong hand on my back. He obviously didn't think it was necessary to hold me down with the weight of his body. I wasn't strong enough to deserve it, apparently. "The Joker. The man whose coat you are wearing!!" that same, rough voice said with anger. My blue eyes, blurred over from tears, looked over at him. My entire body was shaking in fear, pain, and from being cold. Apparently, seeing my face caught him off guard. Seeing his face did quite the same thing to me.

It was Batman and he looked angrier than ever. I had never seen such a livid expression. He was furious! What was so important that he had to don that expression? What did the Joker take from _him?!_ Batman's deep voice cut my thoughts off and I shuddered. "Lily Jones?" he asked, disbelieving. I nodded weakly and let my face drop to the rug, crying. My face and hair was hurting. Why did the Batman have to be so harsh on me? "You're back at Wayne Towers. Does that mean the Joker is too?" he questioned. "Or is this just some kind of joke and he left you behind to be abused? The Joker wouldn't have brought you along if that weren't the case." My blood ran cold at that statement and I pushed myself up to sit on my knees. "I'm here to get my c-c-cat." I said simply, overdoing the stutters. "I didn't w-want to be held hostage here in the f-first place. I just want to go home a-and return to m-my old life." The Batman didn't say anything. He stood quickly and left the room. "Make it fast." was the last thing I heard before I stood up and grabbed my cat.

There was a mirror on one of the walls in the room and I took in my pallid countenance. The horribly pale woman who stood in front of me showed no fear at all. I had been lying to Batman, making up the stutters so he would leave me alone. The pain was real, yes. The tears were real too. If you were so close to getting what you wanted and then suddenly yanked back and forced into pain, you would have cried just the same. I turned back to my kitty, who was watching everything with his hair standing up. "Henry baby," I cooed, scooping him into my arms and cradling him. He purred happily. "I've missed you little boy. Let's go back to the ballroom now." A smile was pasted on my face with the familiar weight of my cat in my arms. I picked up my pace back to the room and when I saw the door to the ballroom, I swung it open. A group of people fell backwards onto the floor in front of me. They scrambled to their feet and I watched them with wide eyes. They must have been pushed up against the door. I slid past them into the room and saw the Joker dueling with Batman. The Joker had a woman pressed to him, a knife at her throat. He was moving dangerously close to the windows. The spectators on each side of the room watched in horror.

When the Joker smashed the window behind him and dangled the woman out, memories flashed through my arms. I cradled Henry to my chest like a teddy bear and he purred even louder. The scene in front of my eyes was just like when the Joker hung Pat out of _my_ window. The clown attacked me as if nothing happened afterwards. My expression was that of extreme guilt, horror, and shock. I had been _living_ with the Joker. I had been _comfortably living_ with the man who _killed_ my very best friend from my job. Now here I was, on _his_ side instead of Batman's. Batman, who tried to save Pat and me, but couldn't because the Joker was far too quick and witty. Thinking about the Batman made me angry though, as I remembered what just happened when I went to find Henry. Fire ripped through my veins and I was snapped back to reality. I noticed the Joker's eyes on me, as well as Batman's. In fact, everyone was staring at me and I was in a furious mood.

"What?!" I snapped, hugging Henry closer. His purr only got louder and I realized that was probably why everyone was staring at me. The random cat in the room was certain to draw attention. I growled and moved to lean against a wall. The Joker's eyes were now back on Batman. Only a few stares stayed put on me. I didn't welcome them one bit either. An old woman glared at me in disgust and then looked down at my cat as if he was being held hostage. I glared right back at her and she looked away, scared. I smiled.

"Well hello," a male voice came from my right side. My eyes moved to look at the man but I didn't recognize him. I wasn't in the mood for anything else to happen, so I stayed quiet. Shouldn't he be watching the scene in front of him like all of the other idiots in the room? I sighed and wished I could rub my temples comfortingly, but Henry was currently taking up my arms and I wasn't about to set him down. As soon as I looked back at the Joker and Batman, I saw the woman fall down the windows and my heart fell right along with her. My mind made me see Pat falling instead of that woman and I frowned deeply at the Joker. He got rid of Batman though. The bat went flying out the window right after the woman. The man beside me cleared his throat. I gave him no thought though and started simply looking down at Henry and scratching behind his ears. He had always really liked that.

"Miss." The man said louder. I continued to ignore him until I felt his big hand on my arm, shaking me harshly. I could've sworn my brain rattled from the shaking and I turned my entire flaming gaze onto him. "Get your skuzzy, contaminated paws off of me or so help me god I will throw you out that window quite the same way _he_ did to that _girl._" I seethed. The male backed away with his hands raised and his eyes wide. I smiled in satisfaction, turning away from him only to see the Joker standing right in front of me, grinning and smoothing my cat's fur. I shrugged at him but that was enough. He scooped me up effortlessly, bridal style, and piled himself, me, and his clown minions into the elevator. Before we were in though, I heard a gunshot. And just as the elevator doors were closing, the man who was bothering me dropped dead in a pool of his own blood. As the elevator spiraled downwards, I heard muffled screams from the ballroom area.

Henry yawned in my arms and cuddled up close to my chest. The Joker noticed this and smirked down at me. "What?" I asked, seeing his gaze out of the corner of my eyes as I pet the top of Henry's head in adoration. "I see you found your feline." He said with a small 'ha-ha'. I nodded and the elevator doors opened. He shifted me a bit and I realized we were already on the first floor. I had been starting to nod off in the Joker's arms, but now I thought that it might have been a bad idea anyway. When we got out of the elevator, I thought he was going to put me down so I could walk for myself. But he didn't. The madman started running for the doors, his men following closely behind. When the outdoors came into view, I noticed our truck as well as several others parked behind us. The Joker hurriedly set me down just outside of the back of the truck we came in. He unlocked the back quickly and pushed me in roughly. My cat hissed at me but he ignored it and crawled in with us, then shut the doors swiftly and crawled to the front of the car, leaping over anything in the way. He seemed to be in a hurry to get out of here.

As soon as Henry leapt out of my arms and onto the floor of the van, and I stood up to get closer to the driver's seat, the Joker pushed the gas pedal harshly and we took off, roaring out of the parking lot and down the road, back to where we came from. I was now on my back, having been shoving there roughly from the force. The Joker didn't say anything, just kept on driving. I still wore his purple jacket. After about a minute of driving, Henry found himself in my lap again and I had my arms wrapped around him protectively. He was scared out of his mind at what was going on. The small tabby had no clue where he was or what he was in, or why. The only thing he knew was me. And the only thing I cared about keeping safe right now was Henry.

In a few more minutes, I felt something weird on my face and I started to feel pretty lightheaded. I reached my hand up to touch my head and felt something liquid on my hand. When I brought it back to look, my hand was covered in blood. I blinked a few times, unsure of what to do. The Batman must have inflicted these wounds when he shoved me into the ground, I thought. Would the Joker care if I told him? I doubted it. What would he do for me anyway? I didn't think he really had to bandage wounds very often since he usually killed his men after awhile anyway. And he almost seemed unstoppable. I didn't know if he'd ever actually gotten hurt or not, but it appeared (from what I saw while being with him) that he rarely got injured.

When my head began to hurt very much, I decided to speak up about the blood seeping from it. But as soon as I opened my mouth to speak, the truck stopped and the Joker was out the door. I closed my mouth again. He would see the wound when he came to peel me out of the van in a few seconds. Sure enough, the back doors swung open and there the crazy clown stood. I still sat near the driver's seat and he motioned for me to come nearer. But, feeling very faint, I wasn't entirely sure if I could make it all the way over there and not pass out. When I didn't even make a notion to move to him, he growled and stepped into the truck-bed. I smiled at him weakly and leaned my head against the wall. When he saw my face coated with fresh liquid copper, his jaw dropped and he swiftly scooped me into his arms, Henry included.

"Where'd you get such a _wound_?" he asked, excitement and… something else in his eyes. I didn't, or couldn't, recognize the other flicker of feeling that was clearly there. But as soon as it showed up, it was masked by that overpowering excitement. Yes, he sure loved blood and chaos. Order, justice, and cleanliness were his biggest enemies. I'd gotten that out of his mind from studying him for the last few days. Being a doctor actually proved to come in handy when kidnapped by a psychopathic, mass-murdering, schizophrenic clown with zero empathy. As the crazy man carried me to the familiar bedroom where I slept earlier, the first thing I saw was the television on, and a big blown up picture of the Joker on one side, and me in his purple coat and matching dress on the other. The pictures were titled with big, bold, flashing letters, "**THE JOKER'S NEW PARTNER IN CRIME?**" It was the first and last thing that caught my eye before I fainted right in the Joker's arms, and I felt my lifeless body being laid down on the bed.


	7. Death is Inevitable

**NOTICE:**

**I'm not sure how good this chapter will be. I wrote the majority of it late at night and didn't bother to go through to make any real edits to it. D: Sorry! Bah, I hope its okay. The only thing I'm really worrying about is keeping Lily and the Joker in character. I would hate for him to seem too… unlike himself.**

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From being stuck with the Joker for the past few days, I realized that different people have very different views on life. Some people live by the rules of order and justice. They go to work every single day just so they can support themselves and their families. Their minds are corrupted with thoughts that when someone is the smallest bit different, they are insane and the odd one out. What those people don't realize is that this said "odd one out" just has his or her own opinion on things. He, or she, wants to just turn the world around and let those people see the absolute chaos that they live in. A person like the Joker did not have to interfere in order to create chaos. People make chaos, people kill. People have different definitions for insanity. Normally, one would think insanity is the inability to control one's own mind, or something close to that. Others think insanity is just a term used for people like the Joker, if he could even be considered a person in their eyes. But others, sincere people like the Joker, believe insanity should be reserved for the people who really can't control their minds. And he, meaning the Joker, knows everything he is doing. He is well aware of just about everything, probably overly alert. He denies being crazy. I've learned that perhaps he isn't. The Joker is just too clever, cunning, and smart for his own good. He isn't understood, he just wants people to see what he sees. At the same time, he is a ruthless killer with the deaths of many in his conscience. Even with them haunting and following him everywhere he goes, he is as carefree as a barn swallow and as terrifying as a hungry, wild lion, if not more.

It was during my dreams that I came to this conclusion. For some reason, they were so very vivid. Memories and scenes I'd experienced with the man danced through my mind as I slumbered. It all seemed so real, and in the end I was in the living room, talking to my mother about everything that happened. She is extraordinarily smart, mind you, and she must have visited me in my dreams to help me form such a hypothesis. It is logical to me, certainly. Never would I have come up with something that made so much sense on my very own. It would require the wit that my mother had and the planning that my father had. But alas, I had neither. I inherited almost none of their genes except for my father's horrible balance issues and my mother's fair skin and blue eyes. Actually, thinking about it, I realized now that my hair is the rusty color of my father's before it started graying. I smiled to myself.

And then, I woke up. I heard a buzz in the room but I didn't know where from. My ears were ringing, which only made the buzz louder. I heard a small, soft snore from beside me. The noise alarmed me and I opened my eyes slowly, taking in the form next to me. It was the Joker. His chest rose and fell each time he inhaled, snoring as he did so. He was fast asleep, those soot-covered eyes were closed and his blood-red mouth was parted cutely in his repose. It brought a smile to my face and I looked around me. The room hadn't changed much; I wondered how long I had been asleep. It was at this time that I realized just how close the Joker was laying to me. It wasn't horribly close, but it was close enough that I could almost feel his heat radiating from his body. It made me shiver in pleasure. Casting one glance at him and melting at the sight, I decided it would be best to go back to bed, but I just couldn't. I knew my dreams would be haunted by his very tranquil state. He looked so calm and peaceful that I would be _strange_ to not dream of him like that. I sighed and noticed something missing. Where was Henry?! I realized my foot felt a little odd. Sure, my chest and below was covered by the comforter, but I felt that extra added weight on my feet and I looked down to see the adorable tabby sleeping. That was all he ever did was sleep. I grinned and sat up to pet him. As soon as I did, I got a head rush and I flopped back down. I didn't even realize that I woke the Joker up as I did so. When my vision returned, what was waiting for me were those two big, black eyes gazing at me in curiosity.

"Good morning," I greeted him. He smirked crookedly, one side of his faced smashed into a pillow. "How long have I been asleep?" I asked. The Joker shrugged. "Less than two days. You know, girly, when you faint, you _sure _faint." He started laughing and he threw the covers off of him messily before scrambling out of bed and planting his feet firmly on the ground. I watched him in awe, wishing I could do that without staggering. I think we may have covered this, but if not, then I am pretty clumsy. If you weren't aware before, then now you are.

"Hungry?" he asked nonchalantly. As if on cue, my stomach made a loud roaring noise. That was a fine answer for him and I saw his eyes turn to meet mine for a second before he nodded to himself and left the room. I wondered where he was going and when he was going to return, but something on the television caught my eye. It wasn't the news story from the other night, no; it was a much different one. On screen, there was Bruce Wayne. His hair was slicked back and he wore a smug and tired expression. I stared blankly at the "boob tube", as the Joker called it.

"_**As you may have heard, the Joker and Lily Jones ambushed my party almost three days ago. Now, I'm not saying that Miss Jones was helping him. No, I believe she was forced. This will sound cruel, but that tiny little thing is far too weak to be able to plot alongside the Joker." Bruce Wayne said. "Because of that, I think search parties should be doubled. This girl's life is in the Joker's hands and we need to get it back. He could kill her any second. If anyone spots her, please call the police immediately. Thank you." The picture of a pale brunette clad in purple, a small tabby in her arms flashed on the screen. It read: 'Lily Jones' and underneath that was the local police's phone number (other than 911 of course).**_

I gasped. How dare he call me little! I looked down at my small frame and stuck out my bottom lip in a childish pout. Leaning over to Henry, I took his paw in my hand and sighed. "I'm not a _tiny little thing_," I spat, mocking the way Bruce Wayne said it. I would have pulled Henry into my lap but I jumped and shot backwards when I heard the Joker's voice. "In denial, I see." He cleverly observed. "You _**are**_ a tiny little thing_._" He tossed two granola bars at me and made his way over to the bed. His arm lunged for mine and he grabbed my wrist, making a circle around it with his thumb and pointer finger touching. As if that was enough proof, he raised his eyebrows and moved to sit on the edge of the bed on the other side.

I tore open one of the granola bars and looked up at the Joker. "What are we doing today?" I asked casually. He only shrugged and kept his gaze focused on the television screen. I sighed. Deep down, I knew I wouldn't get an answer from him. He had a way of not answering even the simplest questions unless he deemed it necessary or worthy of being replied to. It appeared that most of my questions worth unnecessary, or just plain stupid. I wasn't entirely sure which category my inquiries fell into, but I was sort of leaning more toward the former as the latter would just be damn embarrassing.

When I was halfway done with my first granola bar, and the room had now gone completely silent, a man with a clown mask walked in very suddenly. I jumped at the sight of him. "Boss, a word please?" he asked nervously, stuttering over his words. But the Joker made no notion to move, and he simply nodded and said, "What?" The clown cast one strange glance at me and then back to his boss. "Erm, you know that bank robbery you wanted us to do? Well, uhh, I and some of the guys have been thinking maybe you could rob a different bank. You see, Gruff's mum works there and… he doesn't want to see her get hurt or shot or nothin'." With that, my heart fell and I looked over to the Joker. If he had any feelings at all, he would change banks, surely! "Tell _Gruff_ that in this line of work, you can't afford to _care_ about _people_." The Joker spat and he swiftly took out his pistol and shot the man dead. I jumped when he pulled the trigger, not expecting that. The clown toppled over on the floor and began staining the floorboards with his crimson blood. I watched with my mouth wide open.

"Why do you have to kill?" I asked, frowning at the dead body in front of me. I felt bile rise up in my throat but I held it in. The Joker's dark eyes flickered from his smoking gun to my gaze. "Because, missy, someday, _everybody_ is going to _die_. Death is _inevitable._ You can't save everyone from it; perhaps I just want to get that picture across?" The Joker's face was livid and furious. I kept my calm, steady countenance no matter how horrifying and piercing his glare was. "I bet that little thought didn't even make it into that _thick skull_ of yours." At that, the Joker giggled and tapped my forehead with his knuckles. "But how can I blame you? You're only human." He grumbled. "_Pathetic_, but only human." With that, he walked out of the room, leaving me standing in the bedroom and feeling so very, very pathetic. That is, pathetic and human.

The dead man continued to bleed and I felt sick to my stomach. What was I supposed to do now? I couldn't leave the room alone; the Joker would probably think I was escaping or something. But now, after that, it almost felt like I _wanted_ to escape. My gaze switched to the tabby that was leaning over the bed, sniffing the air with his ears pricked back and his green eyes wide. I sighed and pulled him into my lap like I would have done earlier, and I tried to ignore the strong smell of gunpowder and blood that was tainting the air around me. I licked my lips and stared at the television. It was the normal news report, but nothing was really on about me or the Joker. I suddenly remembered the scene from the other day, with Bruce Wayne trying even harder to get to me now. I glared at absolutely nothing, wishing that man would leave me alone. Any **normal** girl would be dying for him to just take one glance at them, but I was not a very normal girl, and that had been proven when I was thinking about the Joker as a handsome, cute guy.

The news continued to play random things, pertaining mostly to warnings about the mob in the slums. They aired a few things about obituaries for old men and women, as well as some in their thirties or twenties, believed to be killed by some kind of criminal. For some reason, the Joker was not a suspect. The gunshots in the body and the lack of importance of the people must have told them that the Joker had not been the one to commit the crimes. But alas, I had a sinking feeling that he could have been, especially with the dead man in front of me bleeding all of the liquid copper out of his body.

I could have sworn the Joker knew I was thinking about him or something because at that very moment when I was in deep thought about the Joker, he entered the room with that same livid expression from earlier. I shrunk in my spot and watched as two clown men rushed past him to the dead body and began heaving him out the door. Another man came in with a rusted bucket of water and a sponge and some soap. I smiled at the irony; he hadn't allowed me to clean up my room and yet here he had this clown cleaning up his.

The man in the mask got to his knees and scrubbed furiously at the stain in the floor. I looked up at the Joker and sighed as he leaned against the wall, tossing his switchblade in the air, bored. The man finished quickly and I examined the spot. It was as if nothing was there in the first place and I blinked, surprised. I had almost been one hundred percent sure that it was going to stain, but now it was clean as could be. The Joker stared at the spot when the man left and he walked slowly to it and scuffed it up a bit with his shoes. I rolled my eyes and stifled a laugh. That was ridiculous.

"I know you aren't completely evil." I said, feeling brave. The Joker looked me in the eyes as if I was really stepping over the line. Perhaps I was. He opened his mouth to say something but must have thought better of it, as a moment later his mouth closed again and his eyes rolled up to look at the ceiling, thinking deeply. I waited patiently until he opened his mouth again and he inquired, "Why do you say that?" I smiled courageously. "If you _were_, I would probably be dead by now. If you were evil, you wouldn't have hesitated to let me bleed to death all of those times I got gaping wounds." The Joker seemed to contemplate this for a minute before he turned his entire body to me in interest. "You saw me dangle your best friend out the window right in front of you, and you don't think I'm completely evil?" he asked incredulously. He studied my face for a second before bursting into pure, maniacal laughter. I watched, again, patiently until he stopped. It seemed like five minutes passed before the chuckles ceased. My head was beginning to throb. The sound was actually a little annoying to hear. But maybe I was getting used to his laughs; I usually would have gotten a migraine in ten seconds tops. "It could be I just have a soft spot for you, _princess_." he said, then thought about what he said for a second. "Yeah, a soft spot. I think I have a soft spot for you. You see, inside I'm just a real. Big. _Softy_." I couldn't help but think he was mocking me or something, but I didn't say anything. I was too entranced by the dark whirlpools of black ink that were his eyes. There was a new emotion in them that I couldn't read and it was highly frustrating. I'd experienced the emotion before but couldn't decipher it then either. But now, for some reason, the feeling was overwhelming. I wanted so badly to ask what he was thinking about but I knew I probably didn't want to know. His thoughts probably consisted of new ways to dismember a body, or different ways to explode more buildings. My voice betrayed me though, as I quickly blurted out, "What are you thinking?" I noticed the Joker's face twitch a bit and he walked from his spot toward me. His face got dangerously close to mine and he grinned. "Oh, doctor." He whispered, getting close. "You don't want to know." He tore his gaze from mine and made way for the door again. I grumbled in my spot and looked down at my cat again, petting him quickly and then staring at the closed door.

I wasn't sure what to do at the moment. Should I follow him or stay put? The question repeated itself in my mind several different times until I finally stood up from the bed and walked slowly to the door. My shivering arm reached for the doorknob before I turned it slowly and yanked it open. When the door was completely open, the Joker tumbled over on top of me. He must have been leaning on the door. And now here I was, pinned to the ground by the Joker, his black eyes piercing mine.


	8. Revenge Seems Sweet

**MEMO:**

**Because I know many of you have questions, I am now offering a frequently asked question 'service'. Message me your questions and I will add them and the answers at the beginning of the chapters.**

**(This chapter seems really, really bad to me. I don't like it one bit D: )**

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Seeing the Joker's dark eyes glaring right into mine, and feeling his warm body crushing mine to the floor sent images dancing through my mind of the last few days. The strongest image was that face that Pat wore when the Joker was dangling the poor man out of my window. I remembered it so vividly that it sent chills up and down my spine. I was almost positive that the Joker knew my discomfort with the situation, him laying on top of me that is, but he showed no signs of getting up from his spot. I figured he enjoyed watching me squirm in malaise.

"What's eating ya, _dollface_?" he whispered gratingly. Another shiver tackled my spine. I felt like I was being electrocuted by lightning through a strong conductor. The feeling was highly disturbing, but the Joker still didn't seem to care. In fact, it only made his face more pleasant, more tickled with the entire mood and setting in the room. I laid my right ear down flat on the floor to avoid his gaze, but he hissed and tugged my chin back to stare at him. I swallowed hard, trying to find a way to look at him without thinking of him as the murderous beast that bloodied up the streets with the blood of Patrick. Hell, he'd even forced me to miss the funeral because he kidnapped me. I couldn't look at him with that same admiration I held only earlier. It wasn't that he had been an idol before, no; I just thought that _possibly_, deep-down, he wasn't all that evil. Looking into his eyes just after a blow to the head, after I got the wind knocked out of me, I was feeling more and more vengeful each second that passed.

The man was beginning to grow impatient. I heard a grumble low in his throat and even as I stared into his eyes I could see the excitement dying down. I wasn't afraid of him. I was angry, furious! I didn't know where the vindictive spirit within me came from, but now it was really bubbling to the surface at one hundred degrees Celsius. "You killed my _best friend_!" I shouted in his face. The horrible realization was really beginning to dawn on me. He was dead. I would never speak to him again, and here I was getting cozy with the man who killed him. I narrowed my eyes at the clown. "You dropped him out of _my_ apartment window, with _me_ watching!" I accused, jabbing him in the chest with my finger. The Joker began to slither off of me but I grabbed his shirt collar and yanked him back down. To my dismay, he didn't budge one bit. I'd only forgotten how strong he was, and how strong I was not.

But the Joker didn't let my little act to pull him back go unnoticed. A sly, seductive smirk spread across his face and there was a glint in his eyes of something I really never had seen before. The look was unrecognizable, but it wasn't the same thing I'd seen before. There was a whole new fire burning in those onyx pools but I still wasn't sure what ignited it. At the moment, my main concern was letting him know that I was aware of what he did and that I was definitely not happy with it. I growled at him, keeping my eyes narrow in a horrible glare. The look didn't do much though, and he began laughing hysterically. I blinked once but held my stare, and the Joker stopped and spoke, "You look like a little _puppy_, doc. Your _menacing glare_ is a dud!" The Joker cracked a smile. "Try again next time." His kidding around only made me angrier. How could the man be joking when he killed my best friend?! The fact that he was a madman held no meaning. He was aware of everything and he and I both knew it.

Because he was so far away now, I crawled up onto my knees and stood right next to him. He towered over me easily in height and that was easy to see. I imagined seeing such a petite girl trying to intimidate a tall, schizophrenic man would be quite the strange scene to witness as a bystander. "Why'd you do it?" I demanded, jabbing another finger at him. Before it hit his chest, he caught my hand and held it firmly in his. I swung my other hand to jab him but he caught that one too. Talk about reflexes like a puma, wow.

But I didn't get a straight answer. Had I been expecting one? Not necessarily, though it would have been a huge relief. The weight that had been nestling into my shoulders could have fallen off for a little while. "I told you already," he said shaking his head in mock disappointment. "Death is inevitable and people need to realize that." I glared at him one more time before countering that. "But you also told me that you have a soft spot for me. If you did then you wouldn't have killed my best friend!" The Joker smiled, still holding my hands in place with his wrapped around them. I supposed he just didn't want me to make any sudden moves that could harm him. "Technically, I didn't kill your _buddy pal._" He smirked. "He _fell_ to his death." As if he was expecting a laugh from me, he looked at me in encouragement. All he received was another glare, and he quickly changed his story. "Maybe I just didn't know about the, erm, soft spot. Until now that is." He said. I snorted; it seemed to tick him off.

The man released my hands and grabbed my head forcefully. "Listen, _girly_, you don't seem to be getting the big picture." His tongue poked out and moistened his lips. It didn't take long for those black eyes to roll up in thought either. He looked back to me. "I already told you why I killed your _pal_. Now it's _your_ turn." He ran his fingers through my brunette hair. "You just need to see the _picture _that I'm painting, ya know?"

I ceased the opportunity to slap his gloved hands away. My own hands were no longer being restrained by his, but my head was in a firm, locked grip. I probably couldn't get away from him even if I tried. He would find me. It wouldn't take long to, anyway. The Joker was getting more and more impatient as I continued to fight against him. I heard a familiar growl behind me come from Henry and I smiled to myself. The little cat was defending me. The Joker glanced to the cat and then to me. He grabbed a handful of my hair and dragged my body to the bed near Henry. I cried out in pain. "Don't step _too_ far out of line, _doctor_." He threatened. "That soft spot can be _easily_ replaced by the rest of my hard _interior_."

I didn't want to push the matter further. My head hurt from the yanking on my hair and I didn't want him to go so far as to injure little Henry there. Part of me didn't think he would harm the feline, but half of me didn't want to take the chance at all. With an insane man, you never knew what he was capable of. I stared at him, masking my horror. He smirked. "So now that you are _positive_ that I killed your buddy," he started. I nearly spat at his face as he held me by my hair, mentioning Pat informally. "do you _hate _me?" The question caught me off guard and my muscles tensed up. I stopped writhing around and just studied him for a brief moment. "No." I said simply. He began to laugh in a familiar way and he dropped my locks from his hand, freeing me from the painful hold. I shoved past his body as it trembled with laughter and sat next to Henry on the bed. It was a lonely life I now lived. Henry and the Joker were pretty much my own social sources and they definitely were not the type of friends I was supposed to have.

About my answer, it was true. I didn't hate the Joker. I really couldn't, could I? He was charming in his own sick and twisted way. His eyes held a bit of hope in them for me, but it always vanished as soon as I recognized it. I don't know, there was just something about him that was so homey and familiar that I couldn't bring myself to loathe him. There were times when I felt something so outrageous that I thought it to be hate for him, but it was just anger. Like before, when he was on top of me, I had been infuriated, but not hateful. Perhaps my mind was simply boggled from the fall. I _should _hate the Joker for killing my best friend, but was Pat really my best friend? Some would say so, but he didn't even know where I lived and knew nothing about me at all. The only reason I considered Pat my best friend was because I had no other friends. He was the only one who I could actually talk to almost normally without getting annoyed or uncomfortable. At the hospital, it was strictly professional. But with Pat around, I seemed to loosen up a bit. Yes I would miss the guy, but he really wasn't my business. I didn't know if he was married, I didn't know his age. I didn't know where he lived or what he did for fun. We talked about really random, goofy things. I do recall him saying something about seeing movies with somebody, but the memory is vague. Even if I remembered him talking about it, it was more likely for me to remember what I was doing than to remember the actual story. Hell, I didn't even remember what movie he said he saw.

The Joker stopped laughing awhile ago and had been analyzing me as I was deep in thought. I hadn't noticed until about a minute passed and I gazed up at him subconsciously. "Today we will be robbing a bank," he said with a grin. "Care to join?" I stared at him as if he was crazy. Oh wait, he was.

"You honestly think I'm going to help you rob a bank?" I asked incredulously, my eyebrows raised. He had got to be joking. I smiled when he shook his head no and thought it was the funniest idea ever. In a way, it was. Just thinking about me attempting to rob a bank screamed disaster. My clumsiness would get me shot as soon as I walked through the door. "Heavens no!" he giggled. "Just to _tag along_." I thought about it for a minute and then nodded. Gears started turning in my head. Perhaps I could talk some sense into the men while they were there. No deaths needed to toll up, but at the same time there would still be a robbery taking place. I didn't want to be a criminal, so I almost wanted to change my mind. But I was reminded of the Joker's bad moods, so I decided it would be wise if I just 'tagged along' and stayed with my original response. I yawned and laid my head down next to Henry, feeling my eyelids drooping. "When are we leaving?" I asked. The Joker didn't answer. He moved to the closet and pulled out one of his purple shirts and a pair of his purple pants, laying them on the bed near me. "You'll need to change." He said. I took one look at the clothing and stifled my laughter. "You expect me to fit into those? You admitted yourself that I was small!" The Joker only shrugged and turned to face the wall. "Hurry." He mumbled. I quickly got off the bed and stripped down to my undergarments again, then pulled the pants on and the shirt. They were definitely a loose fit and I cleared my throat to signal that he could turn around now.

When he did, his eyes landed on the extremely baggy clothes that were draped around my pale little body. He started laughing. "That works. Let's go!" he tugged me out of the room by my hand and I couldn't help but think of how bipolar we both seemed. One minute we were fuming and the next, I'm wearing his favorite outfit while he's holding my hand and pulling me along as if I'm a pet dog or something. I rolled my eyes at the idea. Dogs weren't exactly my favorite animal. I was more of a cat person.

"Come on!" the Joker whined when I started dragging behind. He tugged me even harder forward until I was practically running to keep up. The clown masked men followed us closely behind and I felt myself being tossed into the familiar van carelessly and effortlessly. But instead of the Joker driving like usual, a guy in a mask sat up front and the Joker was in the back with me. Oh wouldn't this be an interesting ride!


	9. Keep Dreaming, Princess

**MEMO:**

**Like I said, I haven't updated in awhile so I'm making this chapter longer than usual so that it makes up for what I missed! If it doesn't really make up for it then I'm planning on either putting out two/three chapters or just a really long one!**

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The back of the truck was dimly lit but I could still make out the face of the Joker sitting across from me. As the truck moved about on the road, his body swayed back and forth but he didn't fall once. I, on the other hand, swayed and lost my balance quite a few times. Having to move around in these baggy clothes wasn't exactly helping either, considering the pants fell far past my ankles. I had to constantly pull them up so they wouldn't fall down, which only caused them to bunch up around my feet and look pretty awkward. I leaned my head against the side of the truck and instantly regretted it when the drive ran something over and my head bopped the wall. My hand rubbed the spot sorely and I took a peek up at the Joker to see him smirking. Darn clown saw the whole thing and thought it was amusing.

"So what bank are we robbing?" I asked nonchalantly. The Joker's smile only grew into more of a grin and I realized the error of my ways. I was beginning to show an interest in his lifestyle, his world of chaos. That was the last thing I wanted to do. At the beginning of this kidnapping, all I wanted was to go home and never be contacted by him ever again. I never expected to be taken hostage by him and actually not _care_ about being taken. But now here I was, asking him which bank we are about to go commit a crime in, and he is laughing at me like usual.

The laughter ceased not too long after it started, and he settled with a big, curious grin. "Oh, breaking news!" he teased, stifling another laugh. "The good doctor joins the Joker in a bank robbery!" I blinked and blushed; he did a pretty good job imitating the newscaster. A streetlight from outside flashed through the front windows and onto his face, which I saw had extreme amusement etched in it, unfortunately. I huffed and crossed my arms in front of my chest immaturely. "I was just curious." I mumbled, which triggered a snicker from the Joker again.

From then on, it was really silent. I took a few nervous glances over at the Joker until I realized that he probably wasn't going to strike up a conversation. After about 3 minutes of complete silence other than the occasional cough from the driver of the truck, and a big unnecessary sigh from the Joker, I started to doze up. But just as I was about to fall into a deep slumber, I felt something hit me in the head very suddenly. My eyes snapped open and I looked at the clown in front of me, a smirk on his face. "Did you just hit me?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. He shook his head. "_Technically_, I flicked you. Now no falling asleep on me, _princess_, we're nearly there!" I glared at him but laid my head back against the side of the truck again, only to remember what happened last time I did so. My head then proceeded to sit up on its own.

"Are we almost there?" I asked, trying to make small talk. It felt weird with him in the back like this and us not exchanging very many words. The Joker reached out his arm and stared at his naked wrist, tapping it as if he had a watch there. "Almost!" he smiled. I rolled my eyes. He could be so odd sometimes, but I supposed that if I was going to be stuck with him for awhile I should get used to how he acts.

It didn't take too long for the driver to hit the brake suddenly. He turned around, clown mask on, but I could hear the smile in his voice. "Alright, we're here." He exclaimed. The Joker stood silently and pried the back doors of the van open before turning back around and dragging me out behind him by my hand. It was then that I realized how much bigger his hands were than mine, I never got the time to think about such silly things. To be honest, I shouldn't have been thinking of it at the time since we were about to rob a bank, but you can't blame me. I need to have _some_ normal thoughts; otherwise I might just go completely and totally insane.

When the two of us jumped out of the truck, I landed on the side of my ankle and would have collapsed to the ground had the Joker not been there to catch me. He began laughing like usual as I winced in pain. With a rolled ankle, holding up a bank may prove to be somewhat… difficult. The Joker didn't think so though; he just threw me over his shoulder like I was some rag doll and continued on his way to the bank. While he walked, I noticed him put one of those clown masks over his face. He set me down for a moment and I saw him holding another one. I gulped, realizing I would have to wear it. He wordlessly placed it over my face with one hand and held my body up with the other arm. When the mask was on my face, he threw me up on his shoulder again and took a gun from one of the clowns nearby.

"Now, _missy_, you better take a gun or else you're as good as dead." He warned, chuckling. The Joker shoved a cold, metal gun into my hands and I stared at it in horror. If he thought I was going to use this, he was crazy. I mentally laughed at my thought process and reworded it quickly to: The Joker is absolutely insane and to top that off, he thinks I'm going to shoot an innocent person. I sighed but didn't bother kicking or screaming. It would only get me in trouble. The Joker was not the kind of person I enjoyed angering, since he'd threatened my death more than once. Sure, he claimed to have a soft spot but deep down I believed that he was just toying with my mind. Wasn't that what he did? He played mind games and I was simply a pawn in his current adventure. I was a puppet of entertainment for the man. A wave of fear shivered down my spinal chord when I realized that he could snip my puppet strings as soon as he got bored of me.

'_Maybe he won't get bored!' _I tried to reassure myself in my thoughts. But it was no use; I knew the Joker's mind somewhat. He didn't have feelings for anyone, I bet I was nothing more to him than one little checker on the game board. There were plenty other checkers to pick from and I was just one lonely, useless checker. For a moment, I decided that I would probably be a red checker. My favourite colour is red, after all, but I digress.

I'd been so lost in my own thoughts that I didn't even know I was in the bank until the Joker propped me up against a wall and made sure I still had that godforsaken gun in my clutches. When he saw that I did, in fact, still have it, he meandered his way off somewhere else and left me in the lobby, leaning against a wall with his baggy clothes on and a clown mask, and a horrible gun. My ankle was still hurting but I knew I had to get over it if I didn't want to die. I heard gunshots from the other room and my brain almost shut off. I really, really didn't want to die today. Not today! My body slid down the wall until my bottom hit the floor. Eyes wide, I gaped at the floor in front of me. I was in danger. I could die at **any** moment if I didn't stay on guard!

So, my senses were suddenly very alert and I stood to my full height (which wasn't tall) and wobbled over to another man in a clown mask. I tapped him on the shoulder shyly and licked my lips before asking, "What should I do?" The guy stared at me for a second before turning away and stuffing something into his bag. "How should I know?" he cruelly answered. I stumbled back, feeling awkward at his snippiness. "Oh…kay." I muttered and turned to walk away. He caught my arm though and I felt his gun press to my temple. "Useless. That's what you are." He grumbled. I was terrified of him now, that he would pull that trigger and my life would be gone.

You know what they say when you're just about to die? That your life flashes before your eyes, everything you did before. Well, that's kind of what happened to me. I thought of Pat falling out of my window, and Henry bugging me for food. I thought of the Joker's big hands compared to my small ones and the little things he did that seemed really different from everyone else, not just the big, obvious things like killing and stealing. He had his own unique personality and a nice face, but anyone could be easily scared off by him. I, for some reason, was not. And after thinking about the Joker, I thought of all of the patients that I saved from death in the hospital due to wounds inflicted by the man himself. I thought of the extreme pain in the ass it was to have to stitch up knife wounds and soothe burns from explosions he ignited.

And as soon as my little flashbacks were done (which took maybe two seconds tops) I was sure he was going to pull the trigger. My alert ears could just hear his thumb moving down the trigger in order to pull it. But as soon as I heard the sound, the gun was knocked to the floor in front of me and there was a knife plunged in the clown's chest. I examined the knife. It was familiar, I know because I'd seen it frequently before. I looked up at my savior to see the mask the Joker put on earlier and a few strands of greenish brown hair poking out from the sides. He nodded and gestured to the gun that the man was using. "Take that one too." He suggested and then he wandered off to continue on his own business, which I assumed was killing everybody else so he could get all of the money to himself. But for some reason, it seemed like the Joker wasn't one who cared that much for money. He just wanted to create chaos. It excited him. Chaos and discord were his life, unlike me. I didn't belong with him. I was supposed to be working right now in the hospital, healing the injured. It was against everything I worked for to go around killing people, inflicting wounds on them that I would normally take an hour or two trying to heal. This life made no sense to me. I didn't want it.

As soon as I thought that, a man with a large gun turned the corner. Luckily, he had looked the other way to check if there were clowns and didn't spot me yet. I quickly darted behind a desk, a ball of nervousness growing in my stomach with each footstep that I heard. It felt like an alien baby was going to pop out of my chest at any given moment. The footsteps were getting closer and closer, and I inched further away from where this guy was. I wasn't ready to come face to face with the guy, especially when he had a gun that was four times the size of my two handguns combined. I sucked in my breath; trying to make sure he couldn't and wouldn't hear me at all. I heard gunshots and nearly jumped up and ran but had to remind myself to keep quiet.

When I heard a plop on the floor and the Joker's laugh, I still didn't move. I was panicked and unsure of how to react or what to do. "Why?" I heard an agonized, strained voice from the other side of the desk. It wasn't the Joker, it sounded like a middle-aged man with a deep, husky voice. The Joker giggled. "Why?!" he repeated childishly. "Because it's just so _fun!"_ he finished, and I heard his shoes tapping over to where I sat, bunched up on the other side of the desk. He reached out a hand for me and I took it hesitantly before he hoisted me to my wobbly feet. "I'll kill you!" the man on the ground screamed. The Joker and I had started walking to the entrance until the clown stopped in his footsteps and turned around to face the man. He walked slowly over to him and I followed like a little puppy.

The Joker pulled off his clown mask and revealed who he was, then gestured for me to do the same. I didn't want to because I didn't want to be involved in this whole mess in the first place, but I did just because I didn't want to be laughed at or get the madman angry with me over such a simple little thing as removing a mask. I frowned and tore the clown face off, staring down at the man. My eyes widened as I recognized that face. The male had tan skin and dark brown hair. His eyes were the color of a thousand emeralds, pure green and they shone brightly against his skin. I felt my mouth drop and watched as his did too. He was Pat's cousin, who I had seen many times in the hospital due to knife fights and bank robberies like this one. But there he was, bleeding on the floor and I wanted to help him so badly. The Joker grinned when he saw us exchange shocked glances. Before I could do anything, I felt his iron grip on my arm dragging me away. In the background, I heard those little cries of help. "Lily, oh Lily please wait! Please! Let her go you raving lunatic! Lily~~!" he began screaming and I felt hot tears slip into my eyes. "Lily!! Come back please! Turn around!" Before I was completely out of the building and wanting to run back and help the injured relative of Pat, I heard him finally holler, "LILY!!"

The crazy clown dragged me harshly to the truck with bags of money on each arm. He tossed me and the moneybags in and climbed to the front seat instead of the back. I figured he must have killed his chauffeur sometime during the little robbery, but to be honest I didn't care at the moment. My mind was plagued with the image of Pat's cousin on the floor, bleeding and calling for help. But I, too caught up in my own little world, did not turn around and help like I should have. It appeared I was really nothing better than a killer's accomplice. I may as well have shot the guy myself. Leaving the sun-tanned man to bleed to death eventually was just as horrible and just as much a crime as killing him myself, with the guns that the Joker insisted I carry with me.

"Doc, don't let those _yelps_ and _pleas_ for help bother you." That familiar, child-like voice piped up. I looked at him in the front seat, feeling dead. "He was a _bad egg_." And when the Joker stopped talking, he laughed like a maniac for what seemed like the millionth time since he kidnapped me. I just gawked at him incredulously. How could he even say something like that? It was Pat's cousin; how many members of that poor family would he kill off?! I took the opportunity to glare the man before me. He chuckled. "Awe, don't give me that look, _sweets_. As much as I _do_ enjoy my women with a bit of _anger_ in them."

That certainly did catch me off guard and I blinked my eyes a few times. Perhaps if I was always happy, he would just let me go back home with little Henry? I could go and live a normal life and pretend that he never existed. Sure, he could still infuriate the police and the Batman (whom I still thought was a pompous asshole for shoving my face into Bruce Wayne's carpet for no good reason) every single day, but I wouldn't have to go around **helping** if he just left me alone and allowed me to continue stitching the wounds he caused or putting ice on the skin he singed with his dynamites. He had explained to me once how he was a man of simple taste. He liked knives, dynamite, and such similar things. He said they were all very cheap. That was what really got me into thinking how he didn't care about money, and he didn't care about people. He had no preference for women up until now. The man never really talked about his taste in _women,_ mostly just his weapons of choice or plenty of other violent things like that.

"What will you do with this money?" I asked, trying to push the thoughts about Pat's cousin to my subconscious mind. I absentmindedly poked one of the bags of money and looked up at him. He snickered. "_That_ is a secret." I couldn't help but wonder though, and thinking of all of the possibilities drowning my mind made me feel a little dizzy. I swayed a tad but blamed it on his bizarre driving. "Why do you drive so carelessly?" I demanded, catching myself from tumbling over on to the floor of the truck. He really drove horribly, and yet he avoided collisions so easily. If I ever even thought about going this fast down the highway, we would have been dead as soon as we pulled out of the parking lot. Then again, I had a huge tendency to zone out while in the car, which was why my method of transportation was usually the bus instead of the old car that sat in my garage for ever.

"_Carelessly_?!" he questioned, mocking hurt. "This is me being careful!" My eyes nearly bulged out of my sockets at that, and I quickly dropped the subject. I didn't want to see what he drove like when he really _was_ being careless. With my luck, he'd want to show me, so I thought it best to just leave that conversation at that and wait until we got back to the hideout to ask him anymore questions on his road rage. It really seemed like I was most curious tonight, for some reason. I almost felt like I was playing twenty questions with the man. Fortunately for me, he did not seem to be upset. Perhaps it was entertaining for him to have to answer me. Maybe he thought of my questions as a game? Usually whatever came out of my mouth was just some kind of joke to him. This guy never took anything seriously and I still hadn't fully gotten used to that.

I was going to ask him another question, but I closed my mouth when I forgot what the inquiry was in the first place. He didn't notice and just kept on driving. As soon as I remembered the question, my mouth opened again but the Joker stepped abruptly on the break and I was flung backwards into the door, moneybags landing on my torso and slamming into my gut. My head hit the handle roughly and then my body fell forward from the impact; I was now sprawled out on a blue bag of cash. I groaned from the back and looked up at the clown, who was now staring at me with that excited flame in his eyes. There was that ever-so-familiar grin on his face and I could tell he was trying not to laugh. Funny, his laughter always seemed to escape from that red-painted mouth of his any other time. Why did he contain himself now? Naturally, seeing someone getting hurt would be just _damn_ hilarious for the guy!

And yet, he wasn't laughing. He rushed to the back and pried me off of the bag, examining my head for any blood. "You're getting tougher, _doc._" He joked. "No blood." I almost thought I heard disappointment in his face at the blood comment but I tried my hardest to ignore it. That would just be highly disturbing and I would feel awkward being in the same place as him, especially a confined space like the van. Then again, I already did feel awkward being near him. Being in his clothes made everything that much stranger. Hell, sleeping in his bed and riding in his truck was odd. I figured I was just a weird person. My guilt from leaving behind Pat's cousin still hadn't subsided, but for the most part it was gone. Tell me that isn't horribly demented. It is.

At the same time, I should be mourning over Pat's death. I should want to go patch up the injuries in his cousin that my captor caused him to have. I shouldn't have been in the bank with the Joker in the first place, but I was. I could have taken the opportunity to leave when he left me alone in the lobby. But no, I didn't even _**think**_ about running away from the madman. Why? I wasn't sure. But I didn't like that he was controlling me so easily. I wanted it to stop, but I was almost positive that it was impossible for my mind to go back to normal now. I'd seen too much. The Joker wouldn't let me live for long even if he agreed to free me, which he most likely would never agree to.

Stuck in my thoughts once again, we were already out of the truck somehow. I hadn't even heard the door open or close, and yet here I was slung over his shoulder like before, with those bags going from one of his shoulders to one of mine. It connected us in a way, and I blushed quickly and hid my face by resting my chin on his shoulder blade and allowing my hair to fall over my countenance. He didn't even care about where my face was. He was probably too focused on getting all the money and me inside so he could go do… whatever it was he did. Most likely kill.

And I was right. No matter how much I squirmed in experimentation, he didn't make one sound except for the small patters of his feet against the floors. He didn't even really move except for pulling up the bag a little more on his shoulder. I looked over at him from the corner of my eye and noticed his dark eyes dancing around, landing on just about everything in the room. It was as if he was taking the scenery in (though it wasn't much to look at; definitely not a sight for sore eyes) and trying to remember every little detail. What was this guy planning, really?

I squirmed more but he didn't even pull the bag up. He was acting as if I was hardly a weight on him at all, as if I was light as a feather. That bothered me greatly and I tapped him softly on the back of the head. It definitely got his attention and he fumbled in his footsteps before his midnight-colored eyes flickered to me in acknowledgment. I took it as a form of permission to speak. "I can walk, you know." I pointed out. The Joker grinned and started to laugh again. I would have expanded further on the subject, but he put me down as soon as I opened my mouth. I tried to bring one of the moneybags with me, but he furrowed his eyebrows at me as if that was very daft of me to do, and he continued on walking, all of the moneybags slung around his strong shoulders. I followed after him feeling very useless and unwanted. That was a bad feeling, especially because it could mean he was growing bored and didn't want me anymore. Well, I sort of didn't want him to be bored of me because an option to get rid of a boring toy would be to kill it. Another option would be to let it go free, which was the plus side of the situation.

But I knew the Joker a little too well from examining him for the last few days. He preferred to kill, and he had these little obsessions like the one with the Batman. I felt my blood boil just thinking about the super "hero". He was a mean, angry man and didn't deserve the title. And yet, I had been once thinking that people were stupid for blaming all of the killings on him. He had it coming for him. It was satisfying now to see the Batman get what he deserved. Before, I felt guilty when people talked about him as the villain but now I understood their views. He was a jerk, simply put. I didn't know why the Joker was so intrigued by him. Maybe they were friends. I almost doubted that though, because the Batman seemed to really, really despise the Joker. And the Joker seemed to want to just annoy the Batman. But siblings did that once in awhile. I chuckled at my thought process. It didn't make sense.

The Joker and I soon made it to the bedroom in which Henry was in. He was sitting up on the floor, staring at the television. The cute sight made me smile in adoration. He was such a nice little feline. I was so happy to have him back into my life. Living without him for a few days was hard enough, but if the Joker hadn't brought me back to Wayne Tower that one day, I probably would have been without him for a lifetime. That would be tough for me. He was the closest thing I had to family. My mom liked him a lot when he was a kitten, before she died. She used to just love him. Now, I loved him. I carried on where my mother left off. Henry earned the love that he was given. Sometimes. There were definitely times that I spoiled him, which was probably most of the time now that I think about it.

The moneybags slid from the Joker's shoulders onto the paneled ground and I looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. Did he plan to leave those in here? His dark eyes looked tired and he walked to the opposite side of the bed and pulled the covers up and slid in. I blinked, unsure of what to do. Exhaustion was clear in my veins but to climb into bed with the Joker as a **choice**?!What would my mother think of that? All of the other times were forced in a way. I was the innocent one, he climbed into the bed that I had been asleep in. But now if I slid under the purple comforter like he did, then I would be the one at fault. I didn't want to be. My muscles suddenly grew sore and I looked at Henry nervously and scooped him into my arms, biting my bottom lip as I did so. The Joker's chest rose and fell as he lay down. I figured he was fast asleep by now, so he wouldn't pull anything when I did get into bed. I stood at my side for a few minute before deciding it was safe to sleep in the bed with him there. He never tried anything before, why would he now? The Joker didn't seem like a very promiscuous guy anyway.

So, I pulled up the loose pants that I was donning and climbed under the sheets. I shut my eyes and waited for the dreams to overtake me, when I suddenly felt the Joker shift in bed. I didn't think anything of it at the time, up until I felt his hot breath on my face and his sly arm slither around me waist and pull me closer to him. My eyes opened, wide as saucers. Why did everything have to be so difficult?!

"What are you doing?" I whispered. But the man didn't answer. All that happened when I said that aloud was his grip around my waist tightened, only bringing me even closer, and his face nuzzled closer to my neck. By now, I was ready to hyperventilate. I knew it was a bad idea to climb into bed with him! Why didn't I listen to my gut instincts?! I felt something small and wet lick the nape of my neck and I felt like I was going to cry. Why was he doing this? It was really quite strange. I didn't want this. I wanted to go home! "Joker, stop!" I shrieked.

It was then that my eyes opened for real and I noticed Henry licking my neck and the Joker hovering over me with amusement in his eyes. I stared at him, blushing and realizing it was a dream. But I must have been talking in my sleep, and he did hear me and see my cat licking my neck. I was embarrassed, simply put. There was a horribly smug smile on his face and I wanted so badly to go crawl in a hole and rot there. I didn't want to feel so embarrassed. That dream shouldn't have happened. "_Fantasizing_ about me, huh girly?" he asked, on the verge of cracking up. I didn't do anything. He still hovered over me like an aircraft, beguilement in his eyes. His white face moved down so close to my own face that I could feel the tips of our noses touching. I watched with wide eyes, not wanting that _fantasy _as he so casually put it, to come true. It was more like a nightmare to me.

Just as I was sure he would take advantage of the opportunity and plant one on me, he pulled away and hissed, "Keep dreaming,_ princess._" I heard a chuckle from his side of the bed and my eyes started to droop as I snuggled the sheets closer to my tomato red face. That had been the most terrible experience with him yet.


	10. An Immovable Object

**MEMO:**

**I apologize for not updating in quite a long time. I have been far too off lately to write anything good up. I do hope this chapter makes up for the lack of writing I've been doing. ******

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Sleeping next to the '_Clown Prince of Crime_' wasn't all that tough. Though, it could have been easier I must admit. My nerves were starting to break apart, tugging from both ends and snapping. I wasn't sure if this was a sign that I may be going insane or what, but the Joker was playing some sort of mind games on me and, to my dismay, they were going according to plan. I glanced at the form beside me. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. Even though the lunatic adjacent to me, as intelligent as he may be, had a warped, sadistic sense of humor, there was a seemingly potent part of me that held some type of soft spot for the madman. I wasn't sure _how_ strong that part was, but it was undoubtedly there. I learned this from pondering my situation after the horrible nightmare I'd had to experience, and embarrassingly caught got experiencing.

Thinking about having a soft spot for him reminded me of a few conversations we shared prior to today. He'd been claiming to have a soft spot for me as well, and I was dumbfounded as to how a lunatic could possibly feel anything for anyone, be them human or animal. He didn't seem to care for his little minions, always shot them dead soon as he got what he wanted from the mission. For some reason, even though his clown followers were being recycled, they kept getting replaced. It was as if he had an unlimited supply. Perhaps they'd all been scared into working for him, or maybe they needed money. I didn't know. But that brought me to think about something else – the Joker almost seemed invincible in a way. There were rumors going around Gotham saying that the crazy man lived through what most people would call inescapable situations. He'd been shot over and over again, been caught in explosions, electrocuted, and dropped from very lethal heights. But the man always emerged seemingly unscathed for the most part, and always continued to wreak havoc on the city of Gotham no matter how many people wanted to see his blood coat the sidewalks for once. By now, I doubted that day would ever come. The people of Gotham would not be rejoicing, and the newspapers would never have a headline about a dead clown lunatic. He seemed so immortal to me. The thought sent shivers down my spine.

But the thoughts that bubbled to the surface of my mind about him being immortal led me right to another topic. If he wouldn't die or be willing to let me go, would I ever be free of him? There were doubts in my mind, and yet I still had a remaining bit of hope just because I needed it. Without that tiny ounce of hope, I'd have gone insane. It didn't seem right to throw away my sanity while in the demon clutches of a man who'd thrown his away years before, and who would be overjoyed to see that he cracked me; sent me to the bottomless pit of pure, undeniable madness. I knew that life with him would be tough, but it would be even tougher if I considered my fate to be completely in his hands. If I thought that my future would remain with him, I wouldn't be thinking so calmly. My thoughts would be furious and crime-infested like his. He and I would feed each other's obsessions. We'd be crazy, together. That was what sickened me the most and I nearly retched right then and there. But the body beside me twitched and I was quickly laying myself back against the pillow, pretending to be in a deep slumber.

The clown saw right through my faux sleep though, as I heard a cackle and two hot palms grasp my shoulders and start shaking me violently. My teeth chattered and my eyes flew open against the sudden movement. I held back a glare as he probably wouldn't have hesitated to cut my eyeballs out with that favored switchblade of his. And it was then that I noticed his makeup was so smeared that I could almost see the man behind the mask. His liquid, onyx-tinted eyes fired up wildly when he saw the hidden anger behind my own green orbs and I spotted his serpent-like tongue flicker out of his mouth and wet his lips in what seemed like a millisecond. I wanted to experiment with him, see his different reactions for different situations. It seemed almost dangerous though, and just thinking about that horrifying switchblade against my neck or plunged into my collarbone, like it had been the first day I met him, made my body shudder. I imagined the crimson beads that would drizzle across my chest and mangle with my already-red hair. And when I would experiment something else, he would rip open the bandage and inflict a deeper wound on top of that. My imagination went wild with the terrifying possibilities and I decided to wait to experiment until he became even _softer_ for me than he claimed he already was.

"Daydreaming **again**, princess?" he questioned, that sly smirk placed ever so smugly on his white-peach features. I shook my head no but couldn't help but examine his face again. The makeup was smudged around his eyes, creating a messy black "coal" look to it. He had half of the makeup taken off on the left side of his face, where a nasty scar peeked through. There were wrinkle lines on his forehead which had wiped off the makeup a bit on their own. I wouldn't admit it to myself, but I actually thought he had never looked more attractive. When he saw my eyes trailing over his face (of course he would, I don't think he ever misses anything), I saw the smug look almost soften. He seemed to be thinking about something, like I'd been doing. I felt something cold run against my cheek and I realized it was the switchblade. From seeing the little weapon so much, I noticed there were intricate designs etched in the handle. They weren't anything special, just small little loop-de-loops that you would see in a unisex kind of atmosphere.

I gasped when I felt the blade dig into my skin just the slightest bit. No blood pooled on my cheek though, and I was thankful that it was just a little pinch and nothing too painful. The Joker seemed amused and distracted almost, and I took the opportunity to grab his wrist and attempt to toss it away from my face. When I did so, the plan pretty much immediately failed. Compared to him, I was as weak as could be. I managed to move his hand away from my face about two inches and then he wouldn't budge. But that amused expression was still clear as day on his face, but a smidgen of surprise was also caught in those midnight eyes. "Trying to **overpower** me?" he asked incredulously, an eyebrow raised in almost a mocking manner. I gulped, but my throat was dry. I bit down gently on my tongue. "Not gonna happen, _dollface_, you see. I am a _mythical being_ compared to you. A _**god**_**. **I can do what I _want_ to you and _**you**_ cannot do _**anything**_ about it."

But I wasn't going to let him think that so easily. As much as I hated the Batman, I could use him to my advantage. He would save me someday, I knew it. He just needed to find out where the Joker and I were. He didn't know the hideout or else he would have had it raided by now. I needed to get out in the open and run for help, but I couldn't bring myself to do so. The Joker didn't need to know that though. He could think that I would use the Batman to save me. "That's not true," I countered. "I'll be saved. The Batman will come and he will kill you, and save me." The Joker merely laughed, right into my face too. He cackled obnoxiously. "You forget. He has _rules_, he doesn't kill." He laughed even more and I shook my head, catching him off guard. "I think you; a crazy man would be an exception." I spat, feeling courageous. The Batman topic seemed to make him act oddly. "No. I'm not crazy. I'm. I'm not crazy." He grumbled lowly. I just eyed him and he seemed to brighten up then. "But, _princess_, you have a point. The only sensible way to live in this world is **without** rules. It would really be something if _he_ broke his only rule." He grinned at me, almost evilly. "The Batman is a _**freak**_, like me. Madness is like gravity. All it takes is a push, like a bad day. The Batman had a bad day once. Why else would he go around dressing up like a _**flying rat**_?!" The Joker began to laugh again.

It seemed like the Joker was about to drop the subject but he didn't move nor hesitate to rub that knife against my cheek again. But when he put the knife away I was almost sure he was going to leave me be. Instead, he leaned down closer and whispered something into my ear. "Just remember, _doc,_ we live in a funny, no, **hilarious **world. And your little, uh, hopes and dreams, that the _Batman_ will save you." He shook his head. "Not. Gonna. Happen." With that, I noticed his arm pull backwards and then collide harshly with my small, pale face. He punched me, and I fell unconscious.

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I had dreams, nightmares. I slept and all I could think of was the Joker. My skin was prickling and I slowly gained consciousness again. I opened my eyes and felt odd. No longer was I wearing a loose, baggy outfit. I felt tight and as if I was being held in by some kind of girdle. My face felt strange too, and my hair as well. I would have sat up, but I noticed I was already in a chair. I took a look down at my attire and gasped. What on earth was I wearing? It was an elegant gown, fit for a queen. Though I was expecting it to feel like a dress, it felt like I was wearing something underneath as well. I would have checked but my arms were tied behind me to the back of the chair. I looked around at my surroundings and noticed a door opposite me. I was in a completely empty room other than myself and the chair. It was dull and grey, but it didn't stink like blood or mold. I did sneeze a few times and notice how dust particles were hovering above me at the light hanging from the ceiling. Staring at the ground, I wondered where I was and why. The door then opened and I recognized the Joker hauling something in with him. He closed the door behind him and I realized he was carrying a mirror.

He angled it towards me and I gawked at my reflection. There I was, sitting on the chair. Though I wasn't sure if it was me or not. My face was covered in face paint. It was completely white and similar to the Joker's makeup. I had red lining my lips and up my cheek like him, and my eyes were covered in black cream. It was dry though and I knew if I touched it nothing would really happen, though I'm sure it would smear since the Joker's did often. My auburn hair was looking absolutely beautiful. It was in beautiful ringlet curls with a few straight pieces. It was half pulled back and fell past my shoulders elegantly. A little purple and black crown was placed on the top of my head to keep it all there, I supposed, and I saw a little clown face on the crown as well. The dress I'd been wearing was just as beautiful as my hair. It was elegant and beautifully white. It looked to me like a wedding dress. The Joker stared at me. "What'd you do?!" I cried out, staring at myself in the mirror. I looked scary.

"I dazzled you up a bit. Do you like the dress? I thought it was only fitting for a _princess_." He scoffed, snickering and coming closer to me as I sat helplessly on the chair. I was fuming. "No I don't like the dress! I don't like this!" I looked down at my attire. It was strange. Far too strange. The Joker laughed. "You're right, that could be hard to move in. Well, let's change then!" With that, he wobbled to me and pulled out a switchblade, running it through the beautiful material and cutting it open. I stared wide-eyed as he tore through the gorgeous thing. It was soon just a big mess, cut open on the floor and underneath me. I couldn't move, and I stared down at my new clothes which were even worse than the dress. "That's better." He stated and he moved behind me to cut off the ropes that were binding me to the chair.

I turned to look in the mirror but it was no longer there. Standing, I was going to make my way to the door but he caught me and forced me right back down in the chair. Only this time, it was a wheelchair. Where'd he get that from?! I gawked as he shoved my hands into metal restraints that were connected to the chair. It seemed highly unnecessary to me. "Where are you taking me?" I asked. He didn't answer, just kept on wheeling. I looked up and noticed him glaring down at my face. His hand collided with my temple again and I cursed. "You talk too much." He spoke simply. I glared at the ground in front of me but felt myself slipping into unconsciousness. It didn't make sense! No, stay awake, Lily! I urged myself to stay conscious but it didn't work. I fell into that same pit of darkness that I was now just so darned used to.

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And this time, when I woke up I was on the stage of what looked like an abandoned theatre. There was a mirror in front of me and a large audience of people with clown masks on. I glared at the mirror and took in what I looked like. I was still covered with the clown makeup, only this time my curls and crown had been covered up by a purple and black jester's hat. The outfit I was wearing was kind of tight. There were pants with one leg purple and the other black, and large heeled boots the same colour that the pants were. The tight, long-sleeved shirt matched the pants too. It all went together so well and was held together in the middle but an oversized black belt. I noticed the Joker's coat was draped on the chair I was tied to. The audience before me was staring at me expectantly. They were some of the Joker's little clown minions and I wasn't sure what was going on. Should I ask? I suddenly felt the binds and ropes around my limbs loosen, and I was thrust very harshly out of the chair by an enormous force. I landed quite a ways away, face first into the old wooden floor of the stage in this enormous theatre. Pushing myself to my knees, I looked up at my attacker and saw the Joker standing there. Two big purple curtains started closing in on us and just missed me when they finally came together. The two of us were now separated from the audience and the Joker approached me. He threw the jacket around me and dragged me through the back of the stage into a dressing room for one of the old stars. There was makeup all over a vanity and a big elegant bed to the side. "What's going on?" I demanded, and he pushed me against a wall and glared at me.

"Well, _**princess**_, if I dress you up as if you're my partner-in-crime, then the Batman isn't exactly going to trust you will he?" he asked slyly. I looked down at what I was wearing and then back up at the Joker. He made me sick. "You bastar-" I was cut off by his fingers on my lips. Quickly, I shut myself up and stared at him. He was much taller and larger than me, especially when he pushed me against walls. I felt so much tinier and inferior to him that I could just shrivel up and fall. But I wouldn't. It would satisfy him too much.

"You know, now that we're both **freaks**, you're that much more…" he dragged on. "Hm, _beautiful._" I stared at him, eyes wide and mouth parted slightly. I was scared, not sure where he was going with this. A switchblade appeared in his hands. "Now, I want you to _**choose**_, princess." He started. There was definitely something up his sleeve and he pressed the knife to the corner of my red lip. "Learn first-hand how I got these scars…" he turned so I could see the little swells near his lips. "Or… hum, be my puppet, and do what I want you to do. Starting, **now**. What's your answer? The clock is a-_tick_-_tick_-_ticking_ away!" He laughed and I was suddenly very nervous. I didn't want my face to be ruined, so I had to choose the second one. But would I really give in that easily? The Joker suddenly made everything that much harder.

"I choose… the second one." I said, shutting my eyes. I didn't want to see that smug smile. The knife was not on my mouth anymore, and I heard a noise that sounded like he was smacking his lips together. I opened my eyes to see his face dangerously close to mine. "Then you're my **pet**, and now I really _**am**_ your _superior being_. I always have been, but _now_ you finally know… for sure."

And it was then that I felt his lips come crashing down on to mine. The switchblade was held against my throat as a warning, it seemed, and his lips felt bruising against mine. I wanted the kiss to stop, that's how painful it was. He bit down on my lip and I whimpered in response, but he continued further and his tongue delved into my own cavernous mouth. He explored the nooks and crannies and shoved his serpent-like tongue almost all the way down my throat. I was tired but when I tried to pull away that knife dug even deeper into my neck. I continued to whimper and felt hot tears start to fall from my eyes. His entire body was pressed against mine very tightly. I was sandwiched between him and the wall and had no escape. Of course, he would be a painful kind of kisser. I was being tortured almost, maybe that was him plan. Instead of the everyday punches and little cuts, he would bruise my face with his lips. And it was working. He wasn't trying to show any form of feeling or emotion like love or preference to me, just trying to tell me that he was in control now and that I had no say in the matter.

Unfortunately, that was how it would have to be from now on, unless I wanted those horrible carvings in my face. And the last thing I wanted was to match that man. Being clothed in clown apparel was horrible enough already. I felt like a little kid on Halloween, going trick-or-treating. And all of the houses handing out candy were the Joker's houses.

I was now living in the Joker's world with him as the dictator. Population – two. The Joker and me.


	11. Meant to Escape

**MEMO:**

**My profile has been updated, please go and read it. It would be very nice of you to do so. :]**

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It seemed almost like a dream as I stood there, donning clown attire and being kissed fiercely by the most wanted man in Gotham. The switchblade that I was usually so used to felt foreign against my burning skin, probably because I had experienced some new kind of sensation and it was clearly outweighing the little tingles that ran up and down my spine when the knife was placed on my bare skin. I felt vulnerable in the Joker's arms, with his scarred lips moving and melting against my own. I didn't want this, but I couldn't say no because then my lips would mirror his, with those ragged ugly scars that ran from the corner of his mouth to the apples of his cheeks.

While kissing the Joker, I hadn't noticed before but there was another small scar on the bottom of his lip moving slightly downward. It was tiny but I could definitely feel it against my lips; they do say that lips are quite sensitive, even when coated in fresh face paint. I could only imagine what the Batman would think if he were to walk in on something like this. If he did, I'd have no chance of being saved from the clutches of this madman. But at the same time, I didn't want to be. I think that side of me had just pushed through any rational choices I could have made, probably due to the mind games that the Joker was trying to play on me.

As if on cue, I heard a large bang against the door and it fell to the ground beside the Joker and me. I, of course, wanted to turn and look, but the man was still pressing me into the wall harshly, his lips were still molding into mine, although I could feel him grinning against me. Batman was now in the room, and boy did he look surprised. From where I was, I saw something strange in his eyes and his mouth was parted slightly. He seemed taken aback, and he quickly tore the Joker off of me and I inhaled quickly, finally getting some breath. It seemed like forever since I'd actually been able to breathe, but in reality it was only about a minute or two.

Now that Batman thought that I was in cahoots with the Joker, he wouldn't save me. He would probably try to lock me up, but then the Joker would just come and get me again and again. It would do no good, although I could beg and plead, he still wouldn't believe me. He wouldn't trust me. In fact, since he saw me in the room on my own, with the Joker's coat draped around my shoulders (and it was now, too, so that probably seemed a little odd to him) he was probably doubting whether I was a real hostage or not. Truth be told, even I didn't know.

And then it finally hit me, like a ton of bricks or a big truck collision. Yes, I was a hostage. I'd doubted my sanity since I was taken in with the Joker because he was so _sly_ with his mind games. I was a hostage of the mind; he had chains around my brain and restraints around my thoughts. He controlled me and kept those binds tight, making them stronger each and every day as I slowly began to analyze things more and more. But now, I knew his plan. He was trying to break me, to crack me and make me like him. I don't know why. I don't **want** to know why. But, he is, and unfortunately for me, it's actually working.

Around me, havoc was being wreaked. The Joker and Batman were in a fist fight, and it looked like Batman was winning for the most part. Any normal person would ask their 'partner-in-crime' to help them, but the Joker's eyes remained locked onto the Batman; he didn't even make a notion of wanting help. Maybe he didn't want help, or maybe he didn't think I would be able to do anything, or **try **to do anything for that matter. There was a part of me, and I didn't know how potent that part was, that was grateful that I was not dead. So in a way, I kind of was the Joker's little _pet_. I would remain faithful to him until it really got out of hand. That is, unless I wanted a Glasgow smile like the one he had.

As soon as it seemed like the Joker was going to be defeated, he caught the Batman by surprise with a knife in his shoe. It stabbed Batman in the lower torso, and I winced when crimson liquid drizzled down his black suit. He tumbled backwards a bit and I continued to just stare, not sure what I should do. Perhaps I could run? Then I would be free of the Joker and this entire mess. An entire group of clowned men ran into the room then, and I took it as my chance to escape. I mixed with the crowd and exited the room, running down the hallway quietly. My breathing was ragged and my entire body was sore, probably from all the abuse I'd been receiving lately. I imagined numerous bruises on my skin, from my face to my ankles. It would only get worse if the Joker caught me after I ran away.

If I didn't run though, I would be just throwing myself into the life of an insane delinquent. I didn't want that, I was supposed to be saving people in the hospital, not watching the Joker inflict wounds on them! I also should not have enjoyed the long kiss that the Joker used as another form of abuse, it was nothing to him. He had no real feelings, just a clever mind that thought up different ways to torture people. He just wanted to watch the city burn, and he'd be happy.

So I continued to sprint through each and every corridor until I found myself on the stage of the theatre again. I ran to the end of the stage and jumped off onto the ground below me. I landed on my feet, but now my ankles were even more in pain than before and I limped to the exit at the back of the room. The Joker wanted the city to burn; that kept repeating in my head. Perhaps it would be best, if he did so while I was not in the city.

My plan was to just run away, not to the police station though. He'd look for me there. I needed a way to escape, without anyone's help. That meant only I would be responsible for my actions. The Joker would be busy with Batman for awhile probably, and would most likely visit the hospital before going on his way to find me. He was injured quite a bit by Batman while I was watching, so much that the makeup he wore was smeared again and there had been blood oozing from his lips. I didn't do anything except run, and as cowardly as that was it seemed like the most logical choice.

Though Gotham was a huge city, I found myself at the familiar hideout. The only reason I was at such a horrible place was because I needed to rescue Henry. It would be simple enough, none of the doors had locks except his bedroom, and he didn't bother to lock it unless he was keeping me hostage. Surely he couldn't have thought ahead so far as to lock my poor kitten up in there while we were gone. I pushed through the way we usually went to get to his bedroom, and stood outside the door. My pale, quivering hand reached for the doorknob and I jingled it. It was locked. I gasped and fell against the door, trying to think. There was an old, rusty fire hydrant across the hall! I jogged to it and picked it up, struggling against its weight. It was pretty heavy. The door to the Joker's bedroom wouldn't stand a chance; it was already almost falling off its hinges. Well, I personally wouldn't be able to break it open, but perhaps a fire hydrant could!

I threw the large object at the door and watched it roll away. But the door looked weak, so I tried again and again. On my tenth or so try, the door crashing backwards and the fire hydrant rolled to the side of the bed. My cat was on the bed, eyes wide and ears perked up. The loud noises must have really alarmed him. I meandered my way around the wreck of the door and ran to him, cradling him in my arms and running out of the room. I heard voices from downstairs which only made me panic. They would recognize me, especially in clown makeup. But would they think I'm doing something against them? Normally, I wasn't allowed to wander on my own, but if I tried to convince them that the Joker told me to let the cat out so it could go to the bathroom or something, or to deliver a message for him…

"That damn girl ran away at the theatre," one of the voices said. I stopped walking. They were here to get me! "And you think she's here?" the other guy boomed incredulously. I stopped breathing so that they wouldn't hear me, and I backed up into a corner that was completely enveloped in the darkness. I tucked Henry's head against my chest so that his bright cat-like eyes would not give our hiding spot away. Luckily, he complied, as he was still too startled to react like a normal cat would and try to scramble away.

I watched from the dark corner as the two men walked past my spot. They kept on going down the hallway and turned the corner to the hall where the Joker's room was. I heard one of them cuss, and I took that as my cue to get the hell out of there. I ran quickly down the steps, flinging myself to the back area that we usually came in. Henry was slowly acting more and more normal, wiggling in my grip as I neared the outdoors. He never did like it outside, usually clung to me like a hook. Of course, with my luck it was a time like this that he would just _**have**_ to be a difficult little bugger.

I continued to run away from the clown hide-out, flew by passing cars and people, all the way to the suburbs where my apartment was. I was nearing Gotham Hospital, the new medical center since Gotham General, and my apartment was very close to that place. Unfortunately for me, I noticed the entire group of masked men outside of Gotham Hospital. I darted behind a nearby building and decided to take a different route to my house. The Joker knew where I lived, but that made no difference to me. Of course, there would probably be someone guarding my apartment for a situation like this. No doubt there would be tours for news people, wanting to get the best coverage on the story of the kidnappee who lived there. Perhaps they'd been at Wayne Tower as well?

Running even faster now, I managed to avoid the clowned men and enter the front door of my apartment. I walked to the man at the counter and smiled. He gasped. "P-Please no! I don't have any money!" he begged, getting down on his hands and knees. I was confused and then remembered that I looked like one of the Joker's minions. "No George, it's me! Lily!" I started, and he looked up at me in bewilderment. I sighed and decided to explain my predicament.

"Listen, I need help. I don't have my apartment key, and I need to get in there and grab the little money I have, and get out of this city. And change into something less noticeable. I think I may dye my hair too, and get coloured contacts just so I'm less recognizable." I started. "I'll even change my name, start a new life. Henry's new name will be Samson. It seems like a fine plan to me!" George was obviously confused but he nodded anyway and went behind the counter to find my key for me. He grabbed it and stuffed it into my hand, bidding me good luck and then he darted to the window and changed the 'Open' sign to 'Closed'. This meant he would be closing down the bar in the back, and no one could buy an apartment room for now. The people that lived here could still maneuver through, of course.

I ran to the top of the stairs, all the way to my floor. I didn't bother with the elevator; I was in too much of a hurry and didn't have the patience for it. Just the thought of the door opening and the possibility of a clown waiting outside made my entire body tremble in fright. I didn't want to know what he would do to me if he found me.

I fumbled with the key in my hands for a minute, looking over my shoulder several times just in case there was someone here waiting for me. Unlocking the door, I shut it ridiculously swiftly behind me and let Henry jump onto the couch. I closed the windows, wondering why they were open and hoping no rain had gotten in. I felt dumb for thinking about that though, and quickly I made my way to my bedroom to grab the sum of cash I had in there. I saw a mirror on my way and ran to the bathroom. There were washrags in there, and I scrubbed my face down quickly. My pale skin peeked through the layers of makeup and I smiled at my reflection. I looked tired, but like a normal person now. My auburn hair was still in ringlet curls. He would know it was me if I looked like I did when I ran away. I stripped to the nude and jumped into the shower, scrubbing my body down. It felt nice to shower; I missed the feeling of being clean. I missed the scent of my favourite shampoos. Squeezing them onto my head, I scrubbed very quickly. When I rinsed, I hoped that no one was waiting for me on the other side of the shower curtain.

My pale hand quickly pulled the curtain back and the room was empty. I breathed, realizing I'd been holding that breath in for quite some time now. The towels I'd had outside the shower were then picked up by me, and I dried myself off and wrapped the blue material around myself, walking out of the bathroom and into my bedroom.

My paranoia was really getting the best of me now. I was looking over my shoulder like an insane person, but if you were in this situation you would be doing the exact same thing. I quickly pulled out black undergarments (a bra and underwear set) and pulled them on, then grabbed my deodorant and coated my underarms with it. I sprayed some of my favourite perfume on myself and rummaged through my dressers for something to wear. The amount of money I had would allow me to buy a new apartment in another city, and buy new clothes and some food. It wouldn't be much, but it would do.

I finally settled on a pair of very dark grey straight-legged jeans and a puffy short-sleeved light grey baby doll top. It featured all manners of a flattering, feminine touch what with its puff sleeves, and the slightly gathered neck and bust lines as well as an adjustable tie for a perfect fit. I often wanted to wear it everywhere, and it was durable enough that I could. The materials in the shirt were made in a way that it would fit my figure nicely, and never cling. I loved the shirt; you could say it was my favourite top.

But enough of fashion, I was more worried about escaping. So I threw the clothes on and pulled on a pair of black wool socks, then flew to the living room and grabbed my pea coat from the couch. I shoved my arms in and stuffed the money I had in the pockets. Henry yawned from his spot on the couch. It broke my heart, but I went to the closet and pulled out the cat carrier. He never liked that thing, but I had to put him in it. I placed the carrier on the couch and put him in, then closed the door and picked it up. There was a bag of cat food leaning on the wall and I grabbed it and carried it under my other arm. For shoes, I would just wear my old black converse sneakers, which were getting all scuffed up and dirty from their ancient age.

Now I was well on my way down the sidewalk to the bus stop, going to a new life without the Joker. When the bus came, I paid my fare and sat in one of the middle seats. A lady across from me grinned at me and I just smiled back, happy that I was no longer a scary-looking person. My hair hung in little cascading waves, some of the pieces were straight and others were in small wavy curls. That was the outcome that happened when I didn't straighten the mess on top of my head.

"I see you have a cat," the woman said, and she smiled again, wrinkles gathering at the corners of her eyes. I nodded and looked at the carrier beside me. "What a cute little guy. I love cats! What's his name?" she asked. I was glad to be talking to a normal person in the city instead of the Joker. It felt so good to have a normal conversation about something unrelated to bombs or death. "Henry." I said. "Do you have any cats at home?" The old woman quickly nodded, as if she'd been expecting the question. "I do! In fact, they look quite a bit like your little guy there. One is named Simba, and the other is Nala." I laughed lightly at the Lion King names. "That's cute." I said. She thanked me and turned back to the novel she had been reading. I turned back to the window.

Slowly, I began to doze off. I was exhausted, and I was going in and out of sleep when suddenly I heard a scream from the front of the bus. The female bus driver, a black woman by the name of Hannah, had been screaming. I looked up there and sunk in my seat when I saw a familiar face – the Joker himself. He was holding a gun to her head and I prayed that he didn't pull the trigger. Perhaps now was when I should do something to save someone else, like I should have been doing in the time that the Joker had kidnapped me. I turned to the woman next to me. "Miss?" I whispered so she could hear but the Joker couldn't. He was too busy up front. The old woman turned to me, eyes wide with fright. "Do you want another cat? I can't look after him myself… and you seem like a kind woman." I pushed the carrier toward her, bag of food and all. My heart broke into a million pieces, but I couldn't keep bringing Henry in every horrible situation like this. It was inhumane.

The woman nodded in confusion. "If you honestly can't, I'll be glad. Would you like to visit him?" I smiled and glanced up at the front. The Joker was talking to the woman now, inquiring about my location. I felt guilty. "Oh, yes please. You can write your address on…" I rummaged through my pockets and pulled out a slip of paper, a receipt from a time I'd gone to the grocery store and never taken it out. I flipped it to the blank side and pressed it against the seat in front of us. "..This." I finished talking. She pulled a pen out of her purse and scribbled down her address, phone number, and name. I smiled. "I'm Lily Jones, by the way." I said and her mouth dropped. I stuffed the receipt into my pocket and stood up so the Joker could see me. I was only doing this to save a life. That was what I did. I saved lives.

And just as I'd hoped, the Joker caught sight of me and dropped his arm to his side, grinning at me wildly, although his stare was livid. I gulped in my spot and winced when I heard something escape from those red-painted lips. "How nice of you to, uh, join us, _princess._"


	12. The Creation of Lily Jones

**NOTE:**

**One thousand and seven apologies for not updating in such a long time. I'm sorry. I was having a few personal struggles, but I'm out of them now. Thanks, if any of you are actually still into reading this story. If you're patient enough to wait for this update, then I would totally give you so many high-fives, hugs, presents, oh god you name it.**

**(: Thanks guys.**

**---------------------------------------------------------------**

I was frightened out of my mind being in the Joker's presence now. He obviously recognized me, who wouldn't? It seemed dumb to run now, since he was so set on finding me. He knew I didn't have Henry. I'm sure those keen eyes of his had noticed the feline with the old lady by now. If not then, well, I don't know. Henry is safe, that's all that matters. Not having him by my side would kill me, but his wellbeing was far more important than anything else.

It didn't take long for that strong hand to grab a hold of my auburn hair. He pointed the gun at the bus driver again and pulled me roughly down the steps, glaring at everyone as he did so. The bus was stopped, but there was no one on the sidewalks to save me. I winced as he dragged me along the city, tugging my hair in the most painful ways. "I thought we decided that you were my _pet_," he said, a guttural growl ripping through his throat. I was trembling. There was something weird in his voice now, something that I couldn't quite pinpoint. His voice had cracks of all kinds because of just how angry he was, or how crazy perhaps? I couldn't tell, but it scared the living hell out of me. He continued to talk, "When _my pets_ run away… I get angry." Oh yes, that was obvious. I knew it by now, he would definitely be punishing me for this. My eyes were squinting from the pain and fogged over by the tears that were pouring out. My cheeks were ice cold as was my body. And when we suddenly stopped on the sidewalk, I whimpered involuntarily and probably out of confusion more than anything else. He turned his entire body to me, forced the entire wrath of his fiery eyes onto mine and grabbed my body. He wrapped those purple arms around me in what someone might think was an embrace, but I knew better. His head rested on top of mine as he "hugged" me.

"When you run, I will find you." He whispered loud enough so I could hear him. I knew his eyes would be darting around, searching for someone to interrupt our _moment._ I knew he was secretly a little relieved, or did I? He mostly seemed upset, pissed off, and downright angry at my actions. I calmed down the tiniest bit when he started to sway a little, and then suddenly I was being forcefully thrust to the ground. My head hit the concrete sidewalk with a sickening thud and every bruise on my body felt like it was being jabbed with a dagger. My brain felt like liquid and my ears were ringing. I was so shocked that all I could do was stare with wide, wet eyes ahead of me at the man, mouth open and screaming from the pain. My face was one of pure horror, pain, and disgust. I wanted so badly to run away, perhaps to Metropolis or even further. I needed to escape somehow. But would that put other people in danger? Even if I surrendered myself to him, he would not stop torturing Gotham City. What was a girl to do?

Wriggling on the ground only hurt more; I could barely feel my limbs. When I did, it felt as if they were being torn from my body, but I had no energy to look to see if they were still attached. The Joker stood hovering over me with eyes of pure hatred and I'm sure mine mirrored that. I hated him. I wanted my mom and my dad, and I wanted to go far away from here. Maybe I just wanted to die. Tears fell out of my eyes and I suddenly felt something on top of me. The Joker's face was inches from mine, his body clinging to me. A passerby might think we were just young lovers, but I knew better. Anyone who got too close would know better. I heard him laughing.

And that's when I passed out.

I had nightmares of all kinds in my slumber. Laughter, murder, blood, the gallows. I don't know what was going wrong with my mind, but I was on the brink of insanity. My nightmares took a horrid turn, of me doing all of those crimes. Side by side with the Joker, killing innocents and exploding buildings. Hurting anyone that got in our way and crashing cars, robbing banks, and torturing everyone else. Oh the horror that would overtake Gotham City, I can just imagine it now. I woke up from the nightmare, screaming, and screaming even more to find a man on top of me. He looked familiar. His voice instantly ticked me off to who he was. "Good morning, _princess_, how was your sleep?"

He had no make-up on, which was probably why I didn't recognize him right away. But those scars ran across his face and I wanted to reach out and just touch them. To think he would be on top of me in a bed like this (without his make-up); I felt… what did I feel? Nothing. I felt nothing. I wasn't scared and I wasn't happy. I was nothing. "Good." I lied. He grinned at that and I felt his lips press against mine once more. He wasn't as rough as he had been every other time, this time he was gentle. He sucked lightly on my lower lip and then slipped a pink tongue into my mouth slyly. What freaked me out the most was that I was kissing back, and I was enjoying every minute of it. What the fuck was wrong with me? I was losing myself and my mind. I was losing my sanity. I needed to get a grip on my life.

When I felt his hand slither up my shirt and tug it off, I almost came back into the sane world and screamed. But no, I was still insane. I did nothing, just let him do as he pleased. The kiss lasted for awhile and he slowly withdrew from my mouth, kissed down my jaw, neck, chest, stomach, all the way to my belly button. I didn't stop him. My mind was screaming to push him away, but my body didn't react. I was half-gone now. The affection he showered me with was pushing me further into insanity. He knew what he was doing. He didn't love me, he was trying to make me crazy and keep me there. Even though I knew his actions, nothing could save me now. Even though this man was crazy, he was a man. I am his puppet, and am a woman. If he wanted to, he'd thrust me so far into insanity that it would be impossible to get even the slightest glimpse of coming back.

And he did just that, but showering me with what someone on the outside would think is love, but he and I knew that it was just to settle the deal. I would be _his_ and if I didn't want to be humiliated, I would remain his. The realization was haunting me to no end. My sanity was so close yet so far away. I had no idea how to get it back.

I felt his hands all over my body, roaming everything. When he pulled my bra off, I didn't stop him. He pulled down my pants, and I did nothing. I watched his eyes look over my body half-hungrily and half-eagerly. The eagerness was more out of making me insane than anything else. Being in this state, I understood his emotions more than I ever had before. I saw him undoing his belt and when it was undone, he returned to kissing me again. My small, pale hands took the belt out of the loops and pulled the button open, then unzipped his pants. He and I worked together to pull them off. There were purple boxer briefs underneath, which seemed to fit. Purple was his colour and his alone. My hands ran around his body, pulling his shirt over his head. His long hair fell around his face and I saw him smirking. The scars trailed from the corners of his mouth to halfway up his cheek. I wanted to kiss them for him.

He roughly pulled my underwear down and then his own, and although my mind was in an absolute panic, the insane me wanted him to just do it already. I was fighting an internal conflict, trying to get myself out of this bedroom and run. But I knew my sanity had no way of winning, and I had to watch from the interiors of my mind as he basically raped me. The real me wanted him to burn in hell, but the insane me wanted him to go harder, harder, faster, faster, deeper, oh lord deeper please. I didn't want this. He didn't want this. No one wanted this, except the insanity that was eating at our brains.

That was the day that my mother and father's little daughter, Lily Jones, died… and someone else took her place.


	13. Starting Off Slow

**NOTE:**

**(:**

**I'm back.**

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Going insane could be easily compared to something like being tossed against your will into a lake with shackles on one's feet. The water is murky and cold, emotionless. You see nothing, you feel like you're about to die. No matter how hard you swim, you'll never win against the weight of the shackles and water. And when you do finally surface, you are already too far gone. In my case, I was pushed into the water with extra heavy shackles by none other than the man who is known as the Joker, the absolute terror and subject of many nightmares in Gotham City. He strikes fear into hearts with a simple dagger, maybe guns and bazookas; explosions of all kinds. He's the devil in the form of a clown. He is a tormented soul, and now I am too.

The world looks so much different with the mind of a murderer. A bloodthirsty, hated person who spends their free time trying to torture others and just watch the city crumble down to nothingness. Yes, that is what I've been turned into. The city of Gotham can thank the Joker for turning a doctor into something doctors hate – the very cause of the wounds they nurture. And here I am, sitting in a bed, completely exhausted. My bones and body feel brittle; tired and so sore. But knowing the Joker, I won't be given a day of rest. I find myself not wanting to rest, either. I want to ruin something. My eyes dart around the room, trying to find a sign of life. They land on a man across the room, his pitch black eyes piercing my own. He offers a small, knowing smile. He is well aware of what he has created. His face is painted white, lips red and eyes charcoal black. His hair looks like it has been dyed lately. I tried to remember if he had the dye in his hair while he… violated my personal bubble. From my memories, his hair was mostly brown. He must have dyed it while I was asleep. How long had I been unconscious?

"**Finally** awake." He clucked his tongue and pushed off the wall, fully clothed in his normal attire. I tried not to imagine the muscles underneath, combining with my own. I tried not to picture my life from before. Did I want to go back? The insanity that was feeding on my brain said no, but the small, tiny, miniscule amount of sanity I had left was screaming. The screams were being drowned out by thoughts of murder, the Joker's unfortunate downfall. Revenge. Despair. Cries of torment. What was wrong with me?

When his clown-painted face came nearer to the bed, I was suddenly very aware of my nude body underneath the sheets. I pulled the quilts closer to my neck, but no sense of fear swept over me. I was perfectly nonchalant about him being near me, which was strange. He was a madman, and I was a woman.

A mad woman, thanks to him. Oh yes, he will always be blamed.

The Joker obviously noticed me pulling the covers closer to myself, as he smirked the tiniest bit. "Don't flatter yourself, _girl_, I've seen it all already." He mused. No blush sprung to my cheeks like it would have before. The comment did nothing to me except make the voices in my head get louder. Seeing me unfazed by this made him grin so widely that I could have sworn those stitches on his mouth would just rip open. Fortunately, they didn't. Laughter broke out through the entire room and my ears did not shudder in response. I was unfazed once more. The laughter from his vocal chords made me want to join in as well. When I started chuckling awkwardly, any evidence of noise in the room ceased. I felt his gaze burning into me with satisfaction. It didn't make me uneasy.

"Can I have some clothes?" I asked aloud, only to see those eyes just dance in amusement. There was no longer a smile playing on his lips, just a straight line. He almost glared at me, but I knew he was simply examining his work. Normally I would have felt really used, violated, abused. But now, I knew better. My mind was totally its own, the mind games no longer worked. I was already insane; his thoughts mirrored my own, if not then they were even worse. Thinking about the death of so many innocents that could be on my hands almost made me want to check into Arkham Asylum, but the demons in my brain quickly covered that up by more grim thoughts, evil memories. The sound of gunfire, bombs, screaming and destruction. Why, oh why did I crave this? Perhaps if I'd been turned by a crazy person who was just a little **less** crazy than this man, I would be a more pleasant madwoman, who lived with her fifty-seven cats in a small house and fed them food instead of myself. I'd be totally innocent, just me and my cats, harmless to the people around me. The Joker wouldn't be bothersome. What would he want with some cat lady? But no, I had to choose to be a doctor. I had to choose to look out the window that day. The day Patrick died.

I no longer cared about my friend's death. He had no meaning to me now, I was just an emotionless wreck who did nothing but hate everyone in the world, including my creator/master. There was still a smile planted on his face, making my stomach twirl into little knots and my eyes feel as if they'd burn a hole into his face any second. There was something about the thought of his blood seeping out that gave me some sick, twisted satisfaction, and I immediately thought better of it. If I wanted to stay alive, I had to either work with the Joker or kill him before he killed me. Yes, my options were quite limited, but they would have to do. Life may not be that important to me, but revenge sure as fuck was.

Seeing as the other insane person in the room wasn't about to hand me some clothes, I sat up with the sheets pulled tightly around my pale, fragile body. I would need to work on that if I wanted to survive in the world of crime. Being weak was probably going to be my absolute worst trait when it came to this new life.

But why was I thinking so much about crime? It wasn't what I wanted to think about, it was more of what I was being forced to think about. It seemed as if my thoughts were being injected by a needle filled with some kind of disgusting medicine; an elixir straight from the Joker's laboratory. I smiled the tiniest bit, and to my pleasure the Joker didn't notice. Or rather, if he did, then he said nothing. It probably didn't concern him what my smiles were about now, since I was thinking about the same things he was. Anyway, I wouldn't put it past him to drug me in order to force these thoughts into my head. Maybe I wasn't even really insane? Paranoia swept over me and I looked up at the man, who for some reason looked totally innocent. Innocent, him?! I snorted, which made him stare at me in slight amusement and a little bit of confusion. His face gave off that he was being cautious, feeling unaware, and his eyes showed the tiniest hint of annoyance.

I continued to sit up with the covers wrapped around me, looking around the room for something to wear. "Where are my clothes?" I questioned, only to get silence as an answer. I could still feel those eyes boring into my back, so I turned quickly to see him right smack dab behind me. I looked up at him. "**We will** be going to get you some." He smirked. "Your old ones just didn't, uh, _fit_ you right. Purple suits you better." I frowned when he emphasized "_we will" _as if it was supposed to make me nervous. I wanted him to know that it didn't, but would I speak up? No. How dumb would that be!

I don't remember how long I've been with the Joker. It must have been awhile, since a lot of my memories are beginning to fade away from my normal life, before Patrick died and before I met this masked man in person. There are days I wish I could go back to the boring lifestyle I once had, but now I know that I would just be back there wishing for something exciting to happen. Well, I guess I finally got my wish. Something **exciting** happened. My friend died, I was kidnapped by Gotham's most wanted criminal, and I lost any sign of sanity. Hip, hip hooray! What could possibly be more exciting?!

Little did I know that it really could get more exciting.

It didn't take long for him to be back to his normal, horrifying self. His eyes were still as black as I remembered them always being, but the fear I once had for them was no longer there. Why? Because in this new state of mind, I knew that he couldn't hurt me. No, scratch that, I knew he COULD but I knew he would not. How long had it been since he had an actual accomplice who had the same way of thinking as him? Well, I'd never heard of one before for all the years he'd terrorised Gotham. Either way, there was just something tucked away in the nooks and crannies of my mind that told me I was safe with him.

We were in this together for the long haul.


End file.
